


Allegiance

by KaelinaLovesLomaris



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Science Fiction & Fantasy, blame Palpatine for everything bad, but i promise there's a happy ending, but it's not Vader or Luke's faults, there's some pain later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelinaLovesLomaris/pseuds/KaelinaLovesLomaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke is captured by Imperials while on a mission and ends up needing his father's help getting out of a tricky situation. What follows is shameless Luke and Vader father-son bonding, with plenty of action, angst, and fluff, as Vader finally has his son at his side and plots to destroy the Emperor. Everyone's favorite Imperial, Admiral Piett, plays a large role, as does Luke's fellow pilot, Wedge Antilles, and Boba Fett will probably make an appearance.</p><p>Post ESB AU, with canon divergence. This is <i>not</i> Dark!Luke. It <i>is</i> eventual Vader redemption.</p><p>The graphic depictions of violence warning is for a chapter much farther down the line, but since I already have it planned, I decided to put the warning on now. I also put the Teen rating on it for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparklight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/gifts).



> If you want/need a more detailed list of warnings and potential triggers, [click here](http://kaelinaloveslomaris.tumblr.com/post/157139416397/warnings-for-allegiance), but be warned that this includes major spoilers.
> 
> This is my first fanfic, so bear with me as I learn how to work with someone else's characters (who have no respect for me because I don't own them...) But this is by no means my first serious piece of writing. Construtive criticism is welcome!
> 
> This work is a gift to sparklight because I only decided to write this after reading "Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn't Get Away," which is a fabulous collection of one-shots and if you haven't read it, you should check it out.
> 
> This originally was never going to see the light of day, but then it was Star Wars Day and I thought... why not? So here it is.
> 
>  _words_ are thoughts  
>  _"words"_ are mental communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke gets a mission from Alliance High Command, there's some fun character bonding and some angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I _finally_ got this chapter finished! Sorry this took so long. I had a pretty severe case of writer's block that didn't help. Hope you enjoy it, and let me know if there is any information overlap or character development that doesn't make sense with the rest of the story. Going back and writing a new chapter 1 is hard!

“Skywalker!”

Luke looked away from the exposed tangle of wires and circuitry he had been examining on his X-wing’s underbelly at the sound of his name being called across the hangar bay. A young Rebel whose name Luke could not immediately bring to mind waved at him as he approached.

“High Command wants you,” the boy, who was at least a good five years younger than Luke, if not more, panted as he came up beside him. He’d obviously just run clear across the base. Luke frowned and ducked out from under his fighter.

“Why didn’t they just comm me?”

“Said they tried. You didn’t answer.”

He pushed his sleeve back and glanced at the comlink on his wrist. Sure enough, it was flashing with several missed communications. Luke sighed. If this was another attempt to debrief him about what had happened at Bespin…

“I’m coming.” He ducked back under his X-wing and quickly closed up the open panel. He would have to postpone his search for the frayed wire that was causing the minor temperature fluctuations in the cockpit. It wasn’t a serious problem, but it was an annoyance and a distraction he didn’t want to deal with in the frenzy of a dogfight.

Even though he knew the way to High Command’s meeting room, he allowed the young Rebel to guide him through the base. The kid seemed to swell with pride at being the infamous Luke Skywalker’s escort. He had expected his popularity in the wake of the Death Star’s destruction to wane as time went on, but if anything it had increased. There was a sort of hero worship in the way younger members of the Alliance regarded him. And surviving two duels with Darth Vader had only cemented his legendary status in their minds.

 _If only you knew…_ Luke thought, reflexively, before shoving the unwanted notion aside. Though they still reared up at unexpected times, he had gotten much better at shutting down his fears of discovery. Who his father was had no bearing on who _he_ was. And there was still good in Vader, regardless. There had to be. He would not have hesitated to kill him otherwise.

 _And I will not kill my father, no matter what Obi-Wan and Yoda want me to do._ These were tired thoughts, tired arguments he had with himself and with Obi-Wan’s ghost. But no matter what the old Jedi Master said, committing patricide was wrong and it was not something Luke was prepared to do. He had no qualms about killing the Emperor, in fact he might have felt slightly more anticipation about that than was acceptable for a Jedi, but he wouldn’t touch Vader.

The boy stopped suddenly in front of him and it was only Luke’s quick reflexes that prevented him from running into his back. He pressed the door chime and a moment later the door slid open, revealing High Command’s meeting room. Luke’s eyes flickered quickly around the room, noting that all the members of High Command were present, even if some were only in holograph. This was rare, and Luke again felt the stirrings of unease. He met Leia’s eyes across the room and she gave him a small smile. There was no more tension in her face and body than normal, and he forced himself to relax slightly. If he was going to be under scrutiny again, she would be more nervous. But her presence in the Force was untouched by anger or worry for him and he had to admit that he was probably not going to be questioned. This meeting, then, was about something else.

“I found him in the hangar bay, like you said, Princess,” the runner said, a note of pride still in his voice.

“Thank you, Kel.” Leia turned her smile to the kid. He dipped his head in a little bow and turned to leave as Mon Mothma waved Luke into the room.

“Thank you for joining us, Commander.” Her tone and expression gave Luke no clues as to the reason for his summons.

“I’m always ready to help,” he replied cautiously. The Force was choked with a myriad of emotions, ranging from Leia’s ever-present affection for him, to Rieekan’s blatant distrust. It gave him a slight headache and he tried to tune them all out. “What can I do for you?”

“As you know, we’ve been trying to keep tabs on the Empire’s ship production, both of known types and of any new designs. We have been receiving reports of a large number of engineers, construction crews, and raw materials being moved to the shipyards above Sluis Van.” Mon Mothma looked up from the notes on her datapad. “It could be that they are simply stepping up their production rate, or they could be working on something new, something to replace the Death Star.”

Cold apprehension slithered down Luke’s spine. They could not afford the Empire building another super weapon.

“You want me to go in and find out?” Were they sending him in undercover? That would be a change from the piloting-only missions they had been sending him on since Bespin. Leia claimed it was a coincidence, that they simply hadn’t needed him for any ground missions recently, but Luke was skeptical.

“Yes, Commander. We do not have the time to plant a spy and have them work their way up through the ranks. We thought that perhaps your… _abilities_ could be of some use getting you in.”

 _You mean the Jedi mind tricks I can play on the guards,_ Luke thought wryly. Maybe it was just his heritage as the freeborn son of a slave, but he hated using them, hated forcing someone to bend to his will. It made something twist sickeningly in his gut, knowing he was overriding someone’s mind. But he could not refuse this mission. It would only give ammunition to those who thought he was a traitor, or a sleeper agent.

Of their own accord, his eyes darted to General Rieekan’s face. The Alderaanian was watching him closely, his mind buzzing with suspicion. Luke was unsure why the General had decided to turn on him so fully. They had worked together closely in the years between the Battles of Yavin and Hoth and had had a mutual respect. Like every other member of High Command, he had accepted Luke’s detour to Dagobah for Jedi training as legitimate. But while the rest had also understood his unwillingness to talk about the confrontation at Bespin, even if they continued to pressure him for a full debrief, Rieekan did not. He seemed to be the only one who did not think his reluctance was due to trauma.

Luke returned his attention to the mission request. He would prove Rieekan wrong. His allegiance had and would always lay with the Alliance.

“Yes, ma’am. Am I going in alone, or do you have a team for me?”

“I’m going with you,” Leia announced, before Mon Mothma could answer.

Luke’s eyes flickered between the two women, seeking confirmation. Mothma nodded.

“Isn’t it dangerous, sending two of the Empire’s most wanted into an Imperial base together?” Luke asked. Anxiety coiled around him, the Force whispering warnings in his mind. They weren’t specific, no flashy visions or clear pictures of death and destruction, just a vague sense that something was going to go wrong. It wasn’t unlike the unease he used to feel before a sandstorm hit. His aunt and uncle had quickly learned to listen whenever he had said that one was coming, even if there were no other signs of it.

Now, though, Luke _needed_ more detailed information. He tried to pin the reason down, tried following the thread of the Force into the future to be better prepared for what was coming, but the Force was elusive and he was left without answers.

“It is a risk we are willing to take,” Mon Mothma replied. “I trust you will be able to protect her.”

“I will do my best.” Whatever was wrong, it was nothing to do with Leia. Her future felt clear. It was his own that was uncertain, his own that caused the Force to tremble in sick anticipation. Icy fear settled in his stomach. Something was going to go very wrong.

~*~

“Well, you look like you just got court-martialed. What happened?” Wedge looked up at Luke as he entered the room. His Second was sprawled on his bed, one hand hovering over a datapad like he had been interrupted in his study of it.

Luke held up the folded cloth in his arms. Wedge narrowed his eyes at it.

“Is that an Imperial uniform?”

“Yep.” Luke tossed it on top of his dresser and collapsed on his own mattress. This base was big enough that they did not have to bunk their beds. Technically, as Squad Commander, Luke could have even had his own private room, but he had chosen to share with his Second. He had told himself that it wasn’t fear, that he merely wanted to acknowledge Wedge’s seniority too and give him a little more privacy from the rest of Rogue Squadron, but after the third time Wedge had woken him from a nightmare he had been forced to admit that he simply didn’t want to be alone.

Wedge raised an eyebrow. “They finally convinced ya to defect?” he asked sarcastically. Luke felt blood rush to his face, and he fought down his annoyance. It was no one’s fault but his own that his friend didn’t know how sore of a subject that was.

“As if,” he replied lightly. “High Command finally gave me another ground mission.”

“They’re sending you undercover?” Wedge sat up, his curiosity spiking almost painfully in the Force.

Luke gave him a lopsided grin. “Not long-term. I’m not a spy. The uniform is just to get me close enough to, ah, _convince_ them that they should ignore me.”

All amusement dropped from Wedge’s face. “Oh. How’re ya feelin’ about that?”

Wedge was the only one who knew about his mind trick qualms. There was something about being the only two survivors from an entire squadron that created tight bonds and their friendship had only grown since the Battle of Yavin. Luke considered him a brother and one of his closest friends.

Luke shrugged, trying to be blasé about it. “I’m not happy about it, but I understand why they want me to do it. I’m not denying that it’s useful, it just feels _wrong_.”

“Have you told them – ”

“I can’t refuse this mission, Wedge!” Luke interrupted. “This is the first ground mission they’ve given me since Bespin. If they’re finally starting to trust me again, I can’t do anything that would undermine it.”

Wedge regarded him steadily from across their small room. “Maybe they would trust you again if you were willing to talk about exactly what happened…” he trailed off as Luke felt the blood drain from his face.

 _They would trust me even less if they knew what had happened,_ he thought grimly.

“I can’t, Wedge. You know I can’t.”

“You haven’t been the same since it happened. We can all see that. And I don’t just mean…” He gestured carefully at Luke’s right hand, which was resting in his lap. Luke clenched it reflexively, an action he had found himself doing more often lately, every time Bespin or Vader was brought up.

“He did something else to you.”

Luke did not reply, just stared down at his prosthetic hand, reliving that moment above the reactor shaft.

_No. **I** am your father._

“Maybe if you told someone,” Wedge suggested cautiously, “we could help you.”

Luke’s indignation flared at the suggestion. There was nothing _wrong_ with him. He had withdrawn from everyone at first, as he had struggled to come to terms with who and what he was. But now his isolation was more habit than anything, and a way to keep people from trying to pry the story out of him. He wasn’t _broken_.

“You don’t need to help me. There’s nothing to fix!” Luke snapped. “He was telling the truth. I just wasn’t ready to hear it.”

Wedge leaned forward, his concern radiating through the Force. “What truth?”

Luke shook his head. “Nothing.” He may have accepted it, embraced it even, but that didn’t mean he wanted everyone, _anyone_ , to know.

“He didn’t do something to you, he told you something,” Wedge said thoughtfully.

Luke cursed his temper and tried to fix his mistake.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does. Whatever he told you changed you.”

“Leave it alone, Wedge,” he sighed. This was a well-worn argument, which had now tilted slightly in Wedge’s favor thanks to Luke’s slip. He still hadn’t fully learned to control his tongue when his temper was up.

“Sithspawn!” Wedge cursed, and Luke flinched, believing for one precarious second that the term was aimed at him. “Your stubbornness will kill you.”

_Luke looked away from the towering presence of Darth Vader, glancing down into the seemingly bottomless depths of the reactor shaft. He returned his eyes to the man who claimed to be his father, who gave him an ultimatum he could not accept, responded only with a small, wild smile and let his grip on the gantry relax. The first moments of weightlessness were filled with satisfaction at the shock he could somehow feel from the Dark Lord before the reality of what he had done closed in on him. He was falling, he had failed, he was going to die – !_

“Luke?”

Luke came back to the present with a start at Wedge’s now very worried voice. His friend was standing in front of him, hands on his shoulders. Luke’s left hand was gripping Wedge’s arm tightly, though he had no recollection of moving. Luke blinked.

“You haven’t had a lapse like that for months.”

He grimaced and released his hold on his friend’s arm. Wedge did not know how right he was. His stubbornness had _already_ nearly killed him.

“Did I say anything?”

Wedge shook his head and moved to sit next to Luke. “You just checked out.”

Luke sighed in relief. There had been a few close calls in the first weeks following Bespin, where his sudden flashbacks or nightmares would result in him speaking subconsciously, calling for Ben and his father and yelling Vader’s name. He had managed to avoid revealing the truth by blaming his association between Vader and his father on the story that Vader had killed his father.

“Flashbacks again?”

Luke raked a hand through his hair and sighed. He had moved _past this_! Even his nightmares had settled down in recent weeks.

“Must just be the stress.” His eyes flickered to the stolen Imperial uniform folded on his dresser. Wedge followed his gaze.

“Maybe the reason they haven’t sent you on a real mission since Bespin isn’t because they don’t trust you, but because they didn’t want you to relapse?” he suggested.

It was a nice thought, but given General Rieekan’s unease whenever they were around each other, he doubted it. He shook his head.

“They are worried I was compromised.”

Wedge took a slow breath and Luke knew what he was going to ask before the words were even on his tongue.

“Were you?” His voice was quiet, apologetic.

“No,” Luke replied firmly. “Whatever happened, whatever was said and done, my loyalties lie with the Alliance.” He could not bring himself to be angry with his friend. He understood his need to know, and he wished that he could tell him everything. But it was something he could not risk, could not bring himself to do.

Wedge nodded. “I believe you.”

The atmosphere in the room lightened considerably after that, and Luke sensed Wedge was willing to let the discussion go. For now.

“So. A mission alone with the Princess, eh?” Wedge nudged Luke in the side with his elbow.

Luke laughed and felt his face turn red. “Not _alone_. Chewie will be with us. Besides, she’s in love with Han.” He spoke nonchalantly, but he still felt a guilty weight settle on his heart at the thought of Han. It was all _his_ fault…

“Right. Sorry.” Luke felt Wedge’s consternation and clasped his shoulder in encouragement.

“It’s fine. We’ll get him back.” _We need to get him back. I need to fix this._

“How is the plan coming?” Wedge asked.

“It’s been finalized. Lando is on Tatooine and should be in place within the next few weeks. We’re going to give him a month, let any scrutiny die down, before we send in the droids. Leia and Chewie will follow after that. If all goes to plan, I won’t even need to set foot in the palace until they’re ready for extraction.” He could hear the doubt in his own voice and Wedge gave him a knowing look.

“When do things _ever_ go to plan?”

Luke grinned wryly. “That’s why we have several contingency plans.”

“Well, I’d say ‘good luck,’ but I’m kind of getting used to being the only Corellian in your group.”

Wedge laughed as Luke gave him a mock glare and shoved him off the bed. His friend hit the floor with a startled yelp before laughing again.

“I thought you Corellians liked to stick together.”

“Well, I figure with him out of the way, I might get a shot at the Princess.” He gave Luke a mischievous grin. “Especially since you don’t seem to have any interest in her.”

“Hey!” Luke protested. “Don’t you dare! I love her like a sister, and I won’t let a guy like you anywhere near her.” He shoved Wedge over by nudging his shoulder with his foot. The pilot went down easily, laughing too hard to keep his balance.

“Because Solo is so much more honorable than I am!”

“At least he doesn’t flirt with every female tech in the Alliance.” Luke finally smiled at Wedge’s teasing, knowing he was just trying to distract him. Their camaraderie felt good, and natural. It was one of the few things that had kept him grounded in the wake of Vader’s revelation and Han’s loss, and he appreciated it.

He stood and reached a hand down to help Wedge up.

“I’ve got to meet with Leia soon, after Command’s meeting is done. She’s got all the details for the mission and we need to discuss it.”

“When do you leave?”

Anxiety twisted in Luke’s stomach again.

“Tomorrow morning.”

~*~

“Why are we taking the _Falcon_? Won’t they just shoot us down as soon as they identify us?” Luke asked. This didn’t make any sense. He leaned against the wall in Leia’s quarters. The Princess paced in front of him, deflecting each of his concerns with sound reasoning. It was frustrating, how sensible she was. He wanted to find some excuse to call the mission off, but so far he wasn’t finding anything other than his unease from the Force.

“We’ve got fake identification for it, so they won’t immediately suspect who we are,” Leia replied, her voice tired. Luke did not envy her her position in High Command.

“But why risk it? We have several stolen shuttles.”

“We don’t know if they have been marked as stolen or not yet. The _Falcon_ is the fastest ship in our fleet, and Command believes that advantage outweighs any risk. Besides, she’s not a ship type that is openly associated with the Alliance. Even with her modifications, it’s not likely that anyone outside of the Death Squadron would recognize her on sight.”

Luke had to concede that, yet again, she had a point.

“Fine. I’m not arguing that she’s not a good ship. I just have a bad feeling about this mission, Leia,” Luke finally admitted. “I think something’s going to go wrong.”

She looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I think the Force is telling me something is going to happen.”

“‘Something is going to happen.’ Like we will not get any useful intel, or one of us is going to die? How bad are we talking here?”

“I don’t know, Leia!” He clutched at his hair in frustration. Why couldn’t the Force be more _specific_?! He tried searching the future again, but it was still hazy, clouded with choices yet to be made. All he could gather from it was an impression of profound foreboding, a sensation he felt in the core of his bones. He shook his head.

“Nothing will happen to you, that much is clear. But I think something will happen to me.” He could hear the doubt in his own voice and he gave Leia a sick smile. “But the future is constantly in motion and I can’t pin it down.”

“Should we call off the mission?” Her concern was evident in the Force, even as she worked to keep it off her face.

“No,” Luke replied immediately. “I can’t see anything definite. I don’t think I’m going to die, in any case. We need this intel, right?”

She looked at him sharply. “You’re more important to us than a bit of data.”

“Is that High Command talking, or you?” he asked quietly, already knowing the answer. If the Empire was building a new super weapon, the Alliance needed to know. And they needed to know far more than they needed a single pilot, even if that pilot was a Jedi.

 _Not that I’m a full Jedi yet,_ he reminded himself.

Leia bit her lip and gave him a tiny half-smile. “I just don’t want to lose you too,” she admitted.

“I know,” Luke sighed. He reached for her and she leaned into his embrace. It felt right, holding her like this. Not in any sort of romantic way, Luke knew her heart belonged to Han and he had never really seen her in that way regardless, but rather in a familial sort of way. The Alliance, and Leia, Han, and Wedge in particular, had become Luke’s surrogate family. They had stepped in to fill a hole left after the deaths of his aunt and uncle, and the murder of Obi-Wan. And even now that he knew he still had actual blood family, he clung to them all the tighter.

Blood wasn’t the strongest bond in the Galaxy.


	2. Capture

The first part of their mission had been a success. No one had questioned their clearance codes or their cover story, and none of the stormtroopers had resisted Luke’s mind tricks. Now Luke stood guard as Leia rifled through the base’s data systems, searching for any information the Alliance could use, specifically anything relating to the Empire’s new project. Luke kept his mind alert, still attempting to pin down the source of his uneasiness as well as keeping tabs on any troop movements.

It wasn’t long before he could feel an entire squadron of stormtroopers headed towards their location, luckily from the opposite direction of their ship. The troopers would be there before they would be able to get to safety. He made his decision quickly, ignoring the tension that suddenly settled in his stomach.

“Leia, we have incoming!”

“Are you sure?” Leia’s soft voice was worried.

Luke nodded tersely, not taking his eyes away from the door he was covering, the door the stormtroopers were approaching. His hand strayed to his new lightsaber clipped to his belt.

“You have to get out of here.” _This_ was what the Force had been trying to warn him about.

“Luke, no!” Leia’s shout finally made Luke look over at her. She was leaning over the computer terminal, hands braced on the desk. With her hair pulled up tightly in a standard military bun and her stolen uniform, she looked every inch an Imperial. Except for the worry in her eyes, which were dark and pleading, knowing exactly what Luke was planning on doing. “You can’t give yourself up. Vader will kill you.”

Luke shook his head. “He won’t hurt me.” Her eyes flickered to his mechanical right hand, resting on his lightsaber hilt. He ignored the implication in her gaze. “If you stay here, we will _both_ be captured. The Rebellion can’t afford that.” _I can’t afford it either._ He looked back at the door.

“We’re out of time. Go, now!” Without meaning to, he infused his voice with a Force suggestion. Leia was far too strong-minded to be fully affected by it, but she took a physical step back from the power in his words. She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to change her mind. She turned and fled the control room, back down the hall towards the landing platform where Chewbacca waited with the _Millennium Falcon_. Luke watched her for a moment, then turned back to face the incoming stormtroopers, monitoring her progress through the Force.

The squadron of stormtroopers burst into the room, and immediately the air was filled with the red energy bolts from their blasters. Luke ignited his green lightsaber blade with the familiar _snap-hiss_ and began deflecting the shots. But even as quick as he was, there were simply too many of them and as they entered the room, they slowly surrounded him. A few of them fell to friendly fire before they ceased shooting.

“Surrender!” one of them shouted, his voice distorted by the helmet. Luke’s eyes flickered quickly around the room, taking in the ring of stormtroopers around him and the officer that suddenly emerged from the same doorway the stormtroopers had. He felt Leia’s presence directly next to Chewie’s and knew she had made it safely to the ship. His diversion had worked.

 Luke deactivated his lightsaber and set it on the ground in front of his feet before taking a step back away from it and raising his hands. Several stormtroopers rushed in to capture him, grabbing his arms and binding them behind his back. He allowed them to restrain him without a fight, knowing it was useless and would only end in injury for him. One of them picked up his lightsaber and handed it to the officer who had just entered the room. His insignia marked him as a Lieutenant-Commander.

The Lieutenant-Commander stepped forward, holding Luke’s lightsaber almost casually in his hands. Luke met the Imperial’s gaze calmly, refusing to show his nervousness in any way. The officer was tall enough that Luke had to tilt his head back slightly to meet his eyes as he invaded Luke’s personal space.

“Who are you?”

“Commander Luke Skywalker, Rebel Alliance.” The officer blinked in surprise at his response. His eyes raked up and down Luke’s slight frame, sizing him up as though he couldn’t believe this _kid_ was the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, was the person Darth Vader had been chasing across the Galaxy for four years. It was a reaction Luke was used to. Then the officer’s expression changed to a sneer.

“And a Jedi collaborator,” he stated, lifting the lightsaber up. Luke kept his gaze steady and face blank. He could not in good faith call himself a full Jedi yet, but he rankled at being referred to as a mere “collaborator.” When Luke neither confirmed nor denied the accusation, the officer snorted in derision.

“To his knees,” he ordered and the stormtroopers flanking Luke pushed on his arms. A surge of terror flooded through him, and he finally fought back, struggling to stay on his feet. But one of them kicked the backs of his knees and they buckled, sending him to the floor. The stormtroopers’ hands clutched his shoulders, restraining him and keeping him down. The officer pulled his blaster from its holster on his hip and leveled it at Luke’s forehead. Luke fought his rising panic, searching for something to say that would stay the officer’s hand.

_I thought my name would be enough! Surely Vader has instructed the Imperials that he wants me alive!_

The thought of Vader cleared Luke’s mind long enough for him to speak.

“Vader will kill you if you so much as _touch_ me.” The words were spoken with far more assurance than Luke actually felt. Oh, he didn’t doubt that Vader would exact his painful revenge on anyone who dared to hurt his… son. But he was barely holding together his composure. He had faced death many times before, but never like this. Never on his knees with a blaster to his head.

“What would Lord Vader want with _you_?” Did they really not recognize him? There were several layers of disgust in the officer’s voice, and Luke was not currently clear-headed enough to dissect them.

“Contact him and find out. But I guarantee that if you harm me, he will kill you and everyone you have ever met.” Luke focused on breathing steadily, releasing his fear into the Force. The officer wavered in indecision for a long moment, and his finger tightened briefly on the trigger before he pulled it away abruptly and holstered it with a sharp curse.

“Bring him to the ship and secure him in a cell. We’ll deal with him after we figure out what these Rebels got from our computers.” Luke was relieved that they seemed to be taking his warning seriously and were refraining from interrogating him. He was pulled roughly to his feet and dragged from the command center, down the hallway the stormtroopers had come from. He cast his mind out and was relieved to feel the _Millennium Falcon_ taking off from the landing pad, carrying its two passengers back to Sullust, to safety, with whatever information Leia had managed to extract from the computer before the interruption.

Luke was led none-too-gently through the corridors of the compound. The walk was silent except for their footsteps echoing against the duracrete floors, and he resisted speaking until they exited the compound and he found himself on a landing platform, facing a Lambda class shuttle.

“You really should contact Vader,” he said quickly, bracing his feet against the ground and locking his knees in a futile attempt to halt his progress towards the shuttle. It only served to make him stumble, and his words earned him a painful cuff to the side of his head.

“You’re not worthy of _Lord_ Vader’s time,” the stormtrooper on his right, the one who had hit him, said disparagingly.

Luke managed to repress his laugh, but he could not stop his lips from curving into a small smirk. If only they knew who they were dealing with… but Luke was unsure how much Vader would want these people to know, and he wasn’t ready to acknowledge their relationship out loud in any case. He would have to stick to demanding them to contact Vader and if all else failed, well. He did know _one_ method he could use to contact the Sith by himself.

~*~

There was nothing for it. These idiotic Imperials were determined not to believe him and contact Vader on their own. He would have to force their hands.

Though Luke had never consciously acknowledged it, he was acutely aware of a small cold fire burning at the edges of his mind. A Force bond between himself and Vader, created with the revelation on Bespin. He had studiously ignored it, despite occasionally feeling it flicker when Vader turned his attention to Luke and attempted to contact him. So although Luke had never activated it himself, he knew he would be able to speak to his father through it, or at least let him know he was in trouble.

He closed his eyes, focusing only on the dark fire and cautiously poked it. It flared up at his mental touch, flooding him with a stronger awareness of Vader’s Force presence than he had ever felt before. It took every inch of his self-control to not flinch away from it and sever the contact. If he were to survive, he _needed_ to speak to Vader.

 _“Luke?”_ There was an eagerness in the rich mental voice and Luke could feel Vader’s presence reaching for him, darkly possessive and yet somehow protective.

 _“Father,”_ Luke acknowledged. There was silence over their mental link, and Luke could feel his father’s uncertainty about how to deal with the situation. He took a deep breath and continued. _“I think I need your help.”_

Instant concern.

 _“What is wrong? Are you injured?”_ Luke again had to resist the urge to withdraw from the contact as he felt dark tendrils of the Force swirl around his body, delicately caressing him but driven in their purpose. Vader’s question, coupled with his tangible relief after finding none, led Luke to the conclusion that they had somehow been searching him for injuries.

 _“I’m fine. I just… may have gotten myself captured by some Imperials,”_ he admitted, embarrassed. Four years! Four years he had evaded capture, even multiple attempts by Darth Vader himself and _now_ he fell to some idiotic officer on some backwater planet. He grimaced as he felt Vader’s amusement.

 _“They keep trying to execute me.”_ Vader’s amusement vanished instantly.

_“What?!”_

_“They don’t believe me when I say that you want me alive. They refuse to contact you. Apparently they don’t want to bother you with trivial things, like the capture of a low-level Rebel.”_

_“Are you alright?”_ Again the dark Force tendrils surrounded Luke.

 _“Obviously,”_ he replied, his mental voice thick with sarcasm. _“You’re not speaking to a ghost. I’ve kept them just unsure enough to delay my execution, but I think they’re losing patience. You might want to contact them yourself if you don’t want to be picking up my body instead of me.”_

 _“If they so much as touch a_ **_hair_** _on your head…”_  He left the threat hanging. It didn’t take much for Luke to imagine the consequences of such a thing.

 _“No one’s touched my hair,”_ he shot back, playfully, trying to distract himself from the bloody images rising in his mind.

 _“Do not make light of this situation,”_ Vader reprimanded. _“Have they done anything to you?”_

Luke sighed. _“I’ve been hit a few times… and punched in the gut.”_

Vader’s rage was palpable across their mental link, and Luke drew back slightly from it. He felt his father work to rein it in at his response.

 _“I was being insolent,”_ Luke ventured, trying to distract him from his anger. It worked. Vader’s mental voice was derisive when he replied, but the cold inferno calmed significantly.

_“Hard to imagine that.”_

Luke couldn’t help himself. He grinned. _“So are you going to come get me?”_

He felt Vader sigh, but the frustration was not aimed at him. _“I should not have to. Any Imperial should know enough to contact me when any ranking Rebel is captured alive, that much more one who invokes my name. Not many would **ask** to be brought to me.”_

_“Apparently they think I’m bluffing, trying to create an escape opportunity during the transfer or something. Or just trying to avoid interrogation by claiming you will kill anyone who touches me. They don’t quite believe me, but I’ve created enough doubt that they’re not willing to risk it yet.”_

_“Well, you certainly would know enough to make an interrogation profitable. I believe you rank high enough that it would be standard procedure.”_ Vader hesitated for a moment. _“What rank are you now? You were a Lieutenant-Commander when we… met… at Bespin, correct?”_

_“No, I was already a Commander at that point. I was promoted before the Battle of Hoth.”_

_“I assumed, since you were only a Lieutenant by the mission on Cymoon-1, that you had not been promoted more than once. Commander. You are rising through the ranks rapidly, my son.”_

Luke froze at the endearment, his breath catching in his throat. It was the first time Vader had addressed him as such and he felt an odd thrill run through his body like a stun bolt, though far less unpleasant. He was unsure of how to respond, and Vader must have sensed it because his emotions turned dark with disappointment.

_“I wonder why they decided to execute you first instead of trying to interrogate you. You **did** give them your rank, did you not?”_

_“Name, rank, and affiliation,”_ Luke quipped. _“But I think it was because of my lightsaber. Labeled a Jedi collaborator. Too dangerous to try and contain.”_

_“You have a new lightsaber?”_

_“I made a new one myself, yeah.”_

Pride seared across their bond, startling Luke with the intensity of it.

_“I **was** surprised that they weren’t more interested in my name, actually. Don’t you have a bounty on my head the size of a planet?”_

_“I did not attach your name to the bounty,”_ Vader ground out, reluctantly.

Luke furrowed his brow in confusion. _“But I thought – ”_

_“Not to the official one, because there were other high ranking Imperials searching for the Rebel who destroyed the Death Star. Remember Vrogas Vas?”_

_“I’m not likely to forget,”_ he replied quietly, shuddering at the memory.

_“The Imperials who captured you and brought you on board the shuttle were **not** my men. I was the one who brought down that shuttle. I could not let you fall into anyone’s hands but my own.”_

_“Thanks,”_ Luke murmured. _“I guess. I wouldn’t like to be in the hands of any other Imperial. At least you won’t hurt me?”_ He didn’t intend it to, but the last sentence came out as more of a question.

 _“I would never touch you!”_ Vader snarled.

Luke clenched his right hand reflexively, but decided to refrain from mentioning it. He sensed guilt behind Vader’s angry declaration and knew the Sith was regretting that particular piece of sword work.

_“It was only after the others searching for you were destroyed and the Emperor admitted knowledge of your existence that I released a bounty on you with your name and holo. However, it is still separate from the official nameless one for the pilot who destroyed the Death Star.”_

_“So I have **two** bounties on me?”_ That was unusual.

 _“Yes. I did it in an effort to protect you.”_ There was dry irony in Vader’s mental voice. _“There are many Imperials who would disobey the ‘alive only’ order on the first bounty in a desire to exact revenge for the destruction of the Death Star.”_

It was not lost on Luke that he was now in the precise situation that Vader had been trying to avoid, because of his refusal to put his name on the bounty. His plan had backfired, badly.

_“But you **do** have a bounty on me with my name. They still should have recognized me.”_

_“Not every Imperial pays attention to personal bounties placed by other Imperials. Though they are usually aware of **mine**.”_ There was a thread of worry twisting through Vader’s Force presence.

 _“Well, since you seem to want to prevent me from being injured, you should contact these idiots soon.”_ Luke returned the conversation back to the original point. There was an uncomfortable pressure in the Force, and he knew their time was running short.

_“Do you know who has you?”_

_“No. He wasn’t interested in my name and he certainly didn’t offer up his own. All I know is that he’s a Lieutenant-Commander from the insignia on his uniform.”_ Luke focused and pulled up a mental image of the man and sent it along the link.

_“I do not recognize him.”_

_“What? The infamous Darth Vader doesn’t know every single Imperial’s name on sight?”_ Luke mocked. He gasped as he received a sharp, reprimanding poke from the bond. _“Sorry, I’m trying to avoid panicking. They’ve left me alone for a while, and I don’t think it’s going to last much longer.”_

Unbidden, the memory of being forced to his knees and a blaster brought to his head rose in his mind, and he was too slow to close it off from Vader. His father’s angry snarl filled his mind as the dark tendrils of his Force presence wrapped protectively, possessively around Luke, too tightly to be comfortable.

 _“They will **beg** for death before I am done with them!”_ he vowed.

 _“I don’t think you need to go that far,”_ Luke interceded quickly. _“Just contact them and tell them not to hurt me.”_

_“Where are you?”_

_“I was captured on Sluis Van and transported to a Star Destroyer in orbit above it,”_ Luke supplied reluctantly.

_“Sluis Van? Why were you there?”_

Luke sighed. _“Do you really want to know?”_

Vader hesitated. _“I am always interested in the Rebels’ movements, but I suppose now is not the time. Did the rest of your team make it out, or are there other Rebel prisoners?”_

_“They all got out except me. I stayed behind as a distraction.”_

Vader’s rage flared up again, partially at Luke for being so self-sacrificing, but mostly at the Rebellion for putting him in such danger. Luke was quick to defend them.

 _“I suggested it. They didn’t want to leave me behind, but I knew I would be the most likely to survive. And one of us had to. The others wouldn’t have been able to make it out otherwise. And if one of them had been captured… well. You know me. I would have exchanged myself anyways. You used that against me at Bespin.”_ There was no accusation in Luke’s mental voice. He had long since forgiven his father for everything that had happened at Bespin.

_“You have a point. And I suppose I cannot be too angry with you for this, since it will lead to me finally having you in my grasp.”_

There was that smothering possessiveness again. Luke shivered. _“You’ve got to save my life first.”_

 _“I will see if I can locate your trigger-happy Lieutenant-Commander.”_ Vader went silent and withdrew nearly all the way from their connection. Luke could sense his distraction and guessed it would take a while before he would return his attention to him. He took the opportunity to reopen his eyes and take stock of his position.

His arms were sore from being held behind his back for so long, and his legs were stiff. He stood up and groaned quietly. How long had he been sitting on the shelf that was the only poor excuse for a place to sit in his cell? He took a few laps around the tiny cell and flexed his hands behind his back, testing the binders. They were unyielding and though Luke knew he could easily unlock them with the Force, he did not want to anger his captors any more than necessary. Speaking of them… Luke extended his senses and his body went suddenly cold as he felt the Lieutenant-Commander and several stormtroopers headed his way.

He sat down again and retreated back into his mind. _“Hurry, Father!”_ he sent, panic infusing the words. He had misdirected them twice, but he didn’t think he could manage it a third time. If his father didn’t locate him before this encounter was over, Luke didn’t doubt that they would never meet again.

_“There are several Star Destroyers above Sluis Van. Can you tell me anything else?”_

Luke quickly ran through everything he had seen and heard since being captured. _“Nothing. I can’t think of anything.”_

_“I will contact every Star Destroyer in the area. You are certain you are still above Sluis Van?”_

_“Yes. The engines have not engaged past what is needed to sustain orbit.”_

_“Delay them as long as you can.”_

Luke sent his agreement, oddly touched by the frantic concern he could feel radiating from Vader over their bond.

There was a click as the lock to his cell door disengaged, and Luke stood, tension coursing throughout his body. The door slid open with a nearly silent hiss, revealing the Lieutenant-Commander and four stormtroopers. The officer’s blaster was held loosely in his hand.

“You don’t want to do this,” Luke warned, his voice as tightly controlled as his body.

“I think I do. I don’t know why I’ve allowed you to confuse me for this long. Just more proof of your malevolent Jedi powers.” He raised the blaster and aimed it at Luke’s head.

Luke laughed once without humor, the sound strained even to his own ears.

“If I was using a mind trick on you, you wouldn’t be able to suspect it. You would do anything I asked without question. Thus far I have respected you enough to refrain from doing so. But since you’re here intending to kill me yet again, it is obvious that you have not contacted Vader yet.”

The officer snarled. “He has no time for Rebels like you!” His murderous intent tainted the Force, and it was influenced by something far stronger than mere duty or hatred. There was also a sliver of recognition that Luke had failed to notice earlier thanks to the distraction of his fear. So the Lieutenant-Commander _did_ know who he was. Interesting.

Luke tilted his head in curiosity. “I’m beginning to think you have something against Vader. I think you want to deprive him of something he wants, in revenge.” The officer’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly and the hand holding the blaster shook slightly, finger tightening on the trigger. Luke felt a surge of fear from the man and knew he had struck a nerve. He prodded his connection with Vader to make sure his father was paying attention.

“There had to be a reason you would so blatantly ignore protocol and refuse to contact Vader despite the fact that I am a suspected Jedi. It’s standard procedure to inform him of this, isn’t it? Not to mention that there’s an alive-only bounty out on me.”

Luke felt the sharp warning from the Force and dodged to the side just before the Lieutenant-Commander pulled the trigger. The blast hit the wall directly behind where Luke’s head had been a split second before. But because of his Jedi reflexes, it missed him by a good foot.

_“Luke!”_

_“I’m fine, Father,”_ Luke sent back reassuringly.

“What did Vader do to you?”

The officer was staring at him in shock. Luke used the brief moment to release his binders with the Force. He then lunged for the officer, but Luke’s quick motion alerted him, and he retreated before Luke could wrest the blaster from his grasp. The stormtroopers quickly overwhelmed and immobilized him.

“You want to know what _Lord Vader_ did?” he sneered the title. “He killed my brother!”

Luke smirked, projecting confidence he certainly did not feel. “You’ll have to be more specific. He’s killed lots of brothers.” Vader’s presence in his mind jerked in surprise as he nearly quoted Vader’s words to him on Cymoon-1. This pushed the officer over the edge, and he stalked forward and grabbed Luke by the hair, yanking his head back and forcing Luke to meet his eyes.

 _“Ah, he’s finally gone for the hair,”_ Luke commented to Vader, his hysteria reaching the point where he felt oddly calm.

 _“Careful, Luke!”_ Vader responded, his fear for him traveling along the bond.

“Admiral Ozzel was my brother, and Darth Vader murdered him.” He pressed the muzzle of the blaster to Luke’s temple and trailed it down along his jaw. “He took my brother from me, so now I’m going to take his… whatever you are to him away from him.”

Dimly, over his rising panic, Luke heard Vader announce with desperation-tinged triumph that he had found him.

“Don’t you think that’s a little unfair to me? I’m just a Rebel that Vader happened to take an interest in. Why should I suffer for his crimes? He’s hurt and killed people close to me too.”

“You’re ‘just a Rebel.’ I don’t need to be fair to you.” He returned the blaster to Luke’s temple.

“Point taken.”

Suddenly the officer’s comlink began beeping, and Luke smirked again.

“You’re going to want to take that.”

“Why should I?” he growled.

“What would be the point of killing me if Vader doesn’t know? He won’t suffer that way.” Not that Luke truly wanted Vader to be even more present for his execution than he already was if it actually happened. But if Ozzel was determined to make Vader suffer, this would appeal to him. Especially now that Vader knew of his intentions, and he had no hope of disposing of Luke quietly.

Slowly, reluctantly, the Lieutenant-Commander released Luke’s hair and took a few steps away from him, pulling out his comlink.

 _“I have informed the captain of the_ Subjugator _to get to the detention center and arrest Lieutenant-Commander Ozzel. I will distract him until help arrives.”_

Luke felt some of his terror dissipate at his father’s words. Ozzel activated his comlink, and Vader’s rich baritone filled the room. It was odd hearing it out loud and distorted by the vocoder after so long spent communicating mentally.

“Lieutenant-Commander Ozzel.”

“Yes, milord?” The derision in his voice was clearly audible and Luke found himself thinking that the officer was lucky Vader was not physically present or he would already be on his way to joining his brother.

_Not that Vader will allow him to live anyways, not after what he’s done to me._

Strangely enough, Luke did not feel inclined to intercede on the Lieutenant-Commander’s behalf.

Vader’s voice interrupted Luke’s thoughts. “I was informed that you have something of interest for me.”

“Um, yes milord. Though I am uncertain how you came to know this.” He shot a fearful glance at Luke, who grinned in response. He could feel a large group of people headed their way, presumably the Captain and group of stormtroopers Vader had sent to rescue him.

“You should know better than to underestimate me, Lieutenant-Commander Ozzel.”

“If you’re so powerful, then you should be able to stop me from killing this Rebel.” He stepped back towards Luke and raised the blaster again. Luke’s panic swelled again in response. He could not dodge the blast this time, restrained as he was by the stormtroopers. The Captain was still too far away…

 _“Father!”_ he sent, almost reflexively. Some part of his mind noted that it was strange how easy it had become to say that word.

“Do not touch him.” Vader’s voice through the comlink was cold, and Luke thought he could feel the air temperature in his cell drop several degrees in response.

“What is he to you anyway?” Despite the precarious situation, Luke could feel the officer’s deep curiosity.

_Understandable. Vader’s obsession with me confuses everyone who doesn’t know who exactly I am. I may be on my way to becoming a Jedi, but he never hunted even Obi-Wan to this extent. And he never wanted any of them taken alive._

“He is _mine_ ,” Vader growled, his Force presence wrapping possessively around Luke again, “and if there is one thing I will not tolerate, it is other people touching what is mine. I believe he has passed along my threats?”

“Yes, I have,” Luke spoke up. “I warned him several – ” he cut off with a groan as Ozzel struck him in the side of the head with the butt of his blaster. His sharp intake of breath was pained, and he slumped down into the stormtroopers’ grips, momentarily stunned.

 _“Luke!”_ Vader’s exclamation was both mental and verbal and the officer jerked in surprise at the fear in the voice.

Luke blinked rapidly, resisting the urge to shake his head to clear it, knowing from experience that it would only make it worse.

“I’m fine,” he finally managed to force the words out, broadcasting his pain and fear along the link in stark contrast to his words.

“Shut up!” the Lieutenant-Commander hissed. “I’m going to end this _now_! Any final words to your Rebel, _Lord Vader_?”

“You will regret it if you touch him, Ozzel,” Vader growled, venom saturating his voice. Luke felt the Force coil around him, forming a skintight shield that covered every inch of his body. It was nearly physically tangible, and Luke wondered if it would actually stop a blaster bolt.

“I don’t doubt it. But I will savor this moment. I have never seen you care about anything as much as this boy. I don’t know what he is to you, but – ”

The door to the cell slid open, and the room was flooded with more stormtroopers, led by an officer Luke identified as a captain by the rank bars on his chest. He leveled his blaster at the Lieutenant-Commander.

“Drop your weapon and step away from the Rebel!” he commanded. The stormtroopers holding Luke wavered in indecision for a moment, torn between their loyalty to their commanding officer and a higher authority, before releasing him.

“What?” Ozzel spluttered. “No!”

Too late, the Force screamed a warning. Luke had barely twitched before Ozzel fired his blaster, and Luke felt the bolt slam into his left shoulder. Indistinct shouts filled the cell as Luke stumbled back. He dimly registered the sound of another shot being fired as he sank to the floor, the approaching darkness of unconsciousness mingling with his father’s dark Force presence and smothering him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Vader is a bit OOC, but I can't help writing him as everyone's favorite Sith Daddy!Vader (with a lot of Obsessive!Vader and Protective!Vader thrown in). He's got such a soft spot for his precious baby son (even if that son _is_ 23 years old).


	3. Medics and Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke deals with being injured and exhausted, Vader mentally hovers, medics are suspicious, and apparently Imperial officers _can_ be nice.

“Luke.”

He opened his eyes at the gentle, familiar voice.

 _Why am I lying on the ground?_ Luke wondered. But as he looked up, he realized he wasn’t quite on the ground. His head was cradled in someone’s lap and he found himself staring up into blue eyes set in a kind face framed by dark blond locks.

“Luke,” the man said again and though the face was not familiar, the voice was. He felt hands in his hair, fingers combing through it gently and he was reminded of how his aunt used to do the same thing when he was younger.

“Who are you?” Luke murmured.

“It’s time to wake up,” the man said, ignoring the question.

“I’m dreaming?”

“Not for long. You need to wake up now.”

Luke closed his eyes and tried to reach for consciousness, but recoiled when he felt pain radiating from his shoulder.

“It hurts.” He was slightly indignant that this man would ask him to do anything that hurt.

“I know.” One of the hands moved from his hair to touch his shoulder. “But you can’t stay here forever.” He hesitated before speaking again, softer this time. “The Galaxy needs you. _I_ need you.”

Suddenly, Luke placed the voice. “Father?”

Anakin Skywalker smiled sadly. “Wake up, son.”

Luke nodded and closed his eyes again. This time he didn’t retreat from the pain, but instead reached towards it and pulled himself to consciousness.

~*~

Luke blinked open his eyes and immediately squeezed them shut against the bright light above him. He hissed as his shoulder flared in pain. 

“He’s awake!” a female voice called. There was a gentle touch on his uninjured shoulder and he cracked his eyes open again, more slowly this time. A woman wearing a white medic uniform stood over him, a small, worried smile on her face.

Another medic entered his field of vision.

“How are you feeling?” he inquired.

“Sore,” Luke groaned. He turned his head to look at his shoulder. His gray Imperial jacket had been removed and he was left wearing his sleeveless undershirt, giving him a clear view of his wound. He was surprised to see only a bacta patch on his shoulder rather than an actual bandage, like he would expect from a blaster wound.

“What…?” he tried to ask.

“It’s the strangest thing. You were only severely bruised. No scorching or bleeding. The bolt didn’t even break the skin. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Luke remembered Vader surrounding him with a Force shield. Apparently, it _had_ stopped the blaster bolt.

“Vader,” Luke managed. He was still disoriented and he felt like he had been trampled by a dewback.

The male medic frowned. “Lord Vader has been asking after your progress. He explained in great detail exactly what would happen to us if you should not wake up.”

“Sorry,” Luke whispered, forcing a small smile.

“Exactly who are you to him?”

“Someone… important.”

“Obviously.”

“He’ll have to tell you… himself,” Luke continued, struggling to sit up.

“Easy!” The female medic reached out to push him back down on the bed, but he shook her hand off. He tried to contact Vader but found that his head was too fuzzy to concentrate as much as he needed to.

“Can I talk to him?”

The medics exchanged glances.

“Please?” He hated how pleading his voice sounded.

Reluctantly, the female medic withdrew a comlink from a pocket in her uniform. She entered a frequency and waited while it buzzed. It hadn’t even finished its first ring cycle before Vader answered it.

“How is he?” he demanded.

“He’s awake, my Lord. He… wants to speak to you.”

There was a brief silence, filled only by the rhythmic breathing of Vader’s respirator. 

“Put him on and leave us.”

“Yes, my Lord.” She handed the comlink to Luke and both medics retreated from the room.

“Luke?” There was so much contained in that one word. Even without his connection to the Force he could hear it, though it was harder to identify the subtleties of the emotions.

“Father,” Luke breathed, an inexplicable sense of relief flooding through him at hearing Vader’s voice. “Did you shield me somehow?”

“Not well enough.”

Luke frowned. “I’m fine. I’m just bruised. You stopped the shot from actually touching me.” He sighed. “Somehow.”

“The Force, Luke.” He sounded exasperated.

“I figured that much.”

Silence fell between them and it was only slightly uncomfortable. Luke cast his mind back, thinking through the events in the cell that had led to him waking up in the medbay. He remembered not being fast enough to evade the shot, Vader somehow shielding him, pain in his shoulder, a second shot before he fell unconscious… Suddenly, Luke sat up straighter, ignoring the protest from his shoulder.

“What happened to the Lieutenant-Commander?”

“After he shot you, the Captain stunned him and locked him in a cell until I can deal with him personally.” Vader made no effort to disguise the anger in his voice. “He will pay dearly for what he has done.”

“You’re going to kill him?” Luke was unsure how he felt about this.

“Not quickly,” Vader replied ominously.

Luke shuddered. He pushed away the violent images encroaching on his mind.

“Where are you?”

“En route to Tatooine, as are you.”

“Tatooine?” Luke questioned, surprised at the mention of his home planet. “Why?”

“It’s the closest rendezvous point. You will arrive there in about a day. I will be there a few hours before you.”

“Then you’ll have me sent over on a shuttle to the _Executor_?”

“No. I will be coming to get you myself. I do not trust anyone else to transport you, not after what happened.”

Luke sighed and ran his right hand through his hair. “This day certainly didn’t work out the way I’d planned it.”

“Do they often?” Amusement colored Vader’s voice.

“Heh, no,” Luke admitted. He smiled wryly. “Not usually.” He groaned and flopped back down on the bed, gasping as he jostled his sore shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. But that blaster sure packed a punch. I can’t imagine the damage it would have done if had actually _hit_ me.”

“You have never been shot before?” His tone was merely curious.

Luke shook his head, even though he knew Vader couldn’t see him. “No, I have. Just not with a shot that was supposed to be lethal. And never so close to my heart.”

Vader growled.

Luke sighed again and spoke before Vader could. “So what do I do in the meantime? Surely they won’t confine me to the brig again?” He doubted it, but a small part of him worried that Vader would want him there to prevent his escape. Not that he was going to attempt one. And not that the detention block could hold him in any case.

“No. You will be confined to the medbay.”

“Oh, come on!” Luke protested, his relief at not being sent back to a cell eclipsed by his indignation at this new prison. “You can’t do that to me! At least let them lock me in a room with a viewport.”

Vader seemed to deliberate for a moment. “Very well. I will contact the Captain and have them move you to a guest suite. You are too much a pilot, like me.”

Something coiled in the pit of Luke’s stomach at the last statement. Of course he had always been told he took after his father when it came to piloting. But to hear himself compared to him _by_ him was a new experience entirely.

“What’s the point of being on a ship if you can’t see space?” Luke quipped, trying to distract himself.

“Indeed.” Vader’s voice was dry. “Now, there are matters that require my attention. I will see you tomorrow, young one.”

“Hey!” Luke shouted, indignant at the belittling pet name, but Vader had already disconnected the call. “Stupid Sith,” he muttered, thumbing off the comlink. He fiddled with it absentmindedly as he finally took the opportunity to examine his surroundings.

The medbay was white. That was the easiest way to describe it. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the sheets on the beds. All white. The light coming from the fixtures was also a painfully bright white. All in all, it gave the place a sterile look, which Luke supposed was probably the point. The air tasted sharp with disinfectant and it made him feel vaguely sick. He had never been fond of medbays or hospitals and being in an Imperial one made him slightly anxious. Being on an Imperial ship at _all_ made him anxious and he was unsure if it was better or worse knowing that Darth Vader was coming for him. On the one hand, he knew the man would never let anything happen to him, but on the other… Luke was not excited about his plans for him. He wanted to return to the Alliance. He could do no good for the Galaxy here.

 _I can’t believe I allowed myself to be captured,_ he berated himself. He growled softly and raked his fingers through his already-messy hair. Sure, he would be more likely to survive than Leia and she could do more good with the Rebellion in the long run than he could, but in Imperial hands… he could do more damage. Leia knew more secrets, but if he were to turn…

The medics, he couldn’t bring himself to refer to them as _his_ medics, chose that moment to return, somehow knowing that his conversation with Vader had ended. He was grateful for the distraction from where his thoughts had been heading.

“How are you feeling, Commander?” the male medic asked.

“Luke.”

“What?”

“Just call me Luke, please.” He hated being reduced to a rank.

“Alright. How are you feeling, Luke?”

He smiled tiredly. “A bit sore, but otherwise fine. I would like to get out of here soon.”

“Yes, Lord Vader informed us that the Captain would be coming down shortly to move you.” There was heavy disapproval in his voice. 

Luke tilted his head, curious. “You don’t think I should be moved?”

“I think you need to rest. You were shot and while your injuries are… _unusual_ , they are still serious. Moving you so soon could be unwise.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell this to Vader?”

“He asked if we thought it would be safe to move you,” the female medic cut in, giving her colleague a hard look. “And while it _may_ cause you some discomfort, it will not actually be detrimental to your health.”

“Thank you,” Luke sighed in relief. He held out her comlink to her and she accepted it. The subtle reminder of his conversation with Vader spiked her curiosity and when Luke felt it, he was pleased to realize his connection to the Force was slowly coming back.

He refused to acknowledge her curiosity. “So how long will this take to heal?”

“We got the bacta patch on it quickly. The worst of it should be gone in the next day or so, but it will probably continue to be sore to the touch for several days after that.”

Luke nodded. It was about what he had expected.

“You were incredibly lucky. If the shot had actually hit you like it normally would have, we would have immersed you in a bacta tank overnight.”

Luke made a face, crinkling his nose in distaste.

“You have been in one before, I take it?” she asked, a slight smile on her face and in her voice.

“Wampa attack,” he nodded. “My sense of smell was ruined for a week.”

“Wampa?” the male medic said, looking at Luke sharply. “You were on Hoth?”

Luke froze as the medic eyed him warily. He could feel suspicion curling through the man’s mind and he realized with a start that they had no idea who he was. He had assumed, when they had addressed him as Commander… But he _was_ wearing a stolen Imperial uniform with the correct rank bar.

He fought back a smile. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I…” he stammered, trying to backpedal. “It’s just that I thought the only Imperial troops present for the Battle of Hoth were Death Squadron members.”

“Correct.” It was getting harder to contain his amusement.

“What is a Death Squadron Commander doing on board the _Subjugator_?”

“I’m not a member of the Death Squadron.”

“Then…” he stopped, his suspicions finally clicking into place as Luke allowed a mischievous grin to twist up one corner of his mouth.

“You’re a Rebel.” His voice was flat, his mind reeling in shock. Luke glanced over at the female medic. She was staring at him, her confusion heightening her curiosity.

“Commander Luke Skywalker, Rebel Alliance.” He leaned forward, inclining his head in a shallow bow. “I would have thought you’d have figured that one out when you picked me up from the cells.”

“We – we didn’t,” the male medic stuttered. “The Captain brought you here himself. He referred to you only as ‘Commander’ and said to do everything we could, but to handle you carefully because you were important to Lord Vader…” He looked faintly sick.

“You’re the one he’s been hunting.” Her eyes were locked onto his face. “You’re the pilot who destroyed the Death Star.”

Luke nodded. It was not a difficult leap to make. They might not have recognized his name, but Vader’s hunt for the pilot who destroyed the Death Star was legendary, even outside of the Death Squadron.

“I thought you might have been ISB or one of Vader’s personal agents. I never dreamed…” The man took a step back. “Why are you unrestrained?”

Luke’s amusement at the situation was quickly giving way to unease. They were reacting far worse than he had anticipated.

_“I think I just made a mistake.”_

Vader’s sharp fear was accompanied by wisps of the Force running along his body, searching for further injuries.

_“I didn’t realize the medics were unaware that I am a Rebel. I made a thoughtless comment and now they look torn between fleeing the medbay and shooting me themselves.”_

“I’m not a threat to you,” Luke said soothingly, imbuing his voice with the Force and twitching his fingers where they rested on his leg. He hated doing this, but he could see no other option. The man’s expression evened out under the power in his words and he nodded.

“You’re not a threat to us.”

“You want to go check my medical chart.”

“I’m going to go check his med chart,” he told his colleague before walking away.

Her eyes widened in fear as she looked between Luke and the other medic.

“What did you do to him?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Luke groaned.

“That was supposed to work on both of you. Apparently you’re too strong-willed.” He appraised her, sending his Force presence out to prod at her mind. She did not appear to be Force-sensitive.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“What? Nothing. Like I said, I’m not a threat. Mind tricks work best when there’s at least a bit of truth to them. I have to believe what I’m saying on some level for it to work. I was just hoping to calm you both down before I ended up getting shot again.” He smiled wryly.

 _“You are foolish, child.”_ Vader’s reprimanding voice filled his mind. _“Most medics are strong-willed enough to resist a mind trick. I am impressed that you managed to trick one of them, but your plan will probably backfire on you now. She is more afraid of you than ever, if my secondhand reading of her emotions is accurate.”_

_“Secondhand?”_

_“I am only able to sense you from this distance, so I am reading what you are picking up from her.”_

_“How do I fix this?”_ Luke pleaded.

Vader hesitated. _“You will have to figure that one out on your own, my son. My expertise lies in **creating** fear, not easing it.”_

“I won’t hurt you, I swear.”

“Why should I trust you? You’re a Rebel.”

“I’m not a cold-blooded killer, whatever your Imperial propaganda may say about us.”

“You killed millions when you destroyed the Death Star.”

Luke winced. That was still a bit of a sore spot for him. He dredged up all the excuses he routinely used to convince himself of its justification. “It was a legitimate military target. I blew up a weapon capable of obliterating entire _planets_. Just days before the Battle of Yavin, the Empire used it to destroy Alderaan. How many more systems would they have fired on in the name of ‘keeping order’? How many more cultures would have been completely wiped out?” He sighed, running his hand over his face. He could not bring himself to look at the medic. “I don’t like taking lives. But sometimes in war, there are no good options. There are only bad or worse. Destroying the Death Star was a bad option. But letting it exist, letting it rip apart countless other planets, was a worse one.”

“There were civilians on that battle station!”

“Alderaan was _entirely_ populated by civilians!” Luke sat upright, his temper flaring. “There were no military outposts on that planet. Not a single one. And your Empire blew it up regardless.”

She was caught off-balance at that, opening and closing her mouth several times without making a sound. Her argument had been demolished and she knew it.

They were both saved from further conversation by the door to the medbay sliding open. Luke glanced over at the Captain, annoyed that he had been too caught up in his defense to sense his approach. The Captain’s forehead furrowed in confusion at the tension in the room, his eyes flickering between Luke and the medic. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

Luke nodded stiffly. “I’m ready to get out of here.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand. He swayed on his feet and dropped back onto the bed.

“Sith!” he swore, lifting a hand to his head. It was spinning and he had to close his eyes and wait while it subsided. “Did you drug me?”

“We gave you some mild pain killers,” the medic replied. “But they shouldn’t affect you like that.”

_“Do pain killers affect Force users differently?”_

_“Did they drug you?”_ Vader was mildly alarmed, but it was overshadowed by his amusement. 

_“They said they just gave me pain killers. But my head’s spinning.”_

_“It should not affect you like that, unless they made a dosage mistake. But I doubt that.”_ Luke felt his father gently prod his mental shields and he lowered them reluctantly. He was unsure what he was looking for.

_“When was the last time you slept?”_

_“You mean, besides being knocked unconscious after being shot?”_ he replied sarcastically.

_“Besides that.”_

_“Um…”_ Luke thought back, but he had a very unreliable sense of time considering his extended stay in the cells of the Star Destroyer.

 _“If it takes you this long to remember, it has probably been too long.”_ There was humor in his mental voice. 

_“I’ve been busy! And besides, I’m not entirely sure what day, or time, it is right now.”_

_“Your balance issues are most likely a result of exhaustion. You need to rest.”_

Luke grimaced. _“Now you’re starting to act like my father.”_

_“I **am** your father.”_

_“You just enjoy saying that, don’t you?”_

Vader sent amusement at Luke before withdrawing from their contact.

Luke finally looked up. Mental communication took far less time than speaking normally did, so his silence had not been suspiciously long. “I think I’m just tired.”

The Captain crossed the room to stand next to the medic in front of Luke. “Are you sure you want to leave the medbay?”

“Yes.” Luke’s face hardened in determination. He stood more slowly this time and managed to stay upright. He walked towards the door and heard the Captain fall into step behind him. He was only a few paces from the door when he stumbled, but the Captain caught his arm before he could fall.

“Perhaps it would be best if I helped you.” Though it was phrased like an offer, his tone implied that it was an order. He smiled tightly at Luke, an expression he was not fully able to decipher. “Lord Vader would be most displeased if you managed to injure yourself further.”

“I don’t understand why.” The angry female voice from behind them made them both turn around to look at the medic. “Isn’t he just going to kill him as soon as he gets his hands on him?”

Luke grinned. “Hardly. You heard the threats he made. He wants me alive and unharmed.”

“You think too highly of yourself, _Rebel_ ,” she hissed. “The only prisoners who make their way into Lord Vader’s custody are the ones he wants to break himself. You’re going to regret surviving that blaster shot.”

His grin faded. “Someday you will realize how wrong you are.” He turned away from her and stepped through the still-open door into the corridor, the Captain still loosely holding onto his arm. The man’s mind was burning with questions and the longer they walked in silence, the louder his thoughts became. Luke sighed.

“How much did Vader tell you?”

The Captain looked over in surprise. “Not a lot. He told me to go to the detention block and rescue the Rebel Commander being held there and arrest Lieutenant-Commander Ozzel and that if I valued my life and my station, I would do it quickly. After you were shot and the Lieutenant-Commander arrested, I carried you up to the medbay. The comlink was still open to Lord Vader’s channel and he told me to get you there as soon as possible. Calling the medics down would have taken a significantly longer time.”

“You _carried_ me?” Luke asked, incredulous.

The Captain shot him a significant glance. “No offense, Commander, but there’s not much to you.” Luke felt blood rise in his cheeks and he looked down and away, trying to conceal his embarrassment.

“There is nothing wrong with being short,” the Captain tried to reassure him. “After I left you in the medbay with Lord Vader’s _very_ specific instructions for handling you with the utmost care, he contacted me again. He told me to rendezvous with the _Executor_ above Tatooine and warned me that if anything further should happen to you… well. You yourself mentioned his threats.” He smiled grimly.

“I’m sorry,” Luke murmured.

The Captain looked shocked. “What for? You were the one who was shot because I failed.”

“No!” Luke glared at him sharply. “You did not fail. And I will make sure Vader knows it.” He would not have anyone else die on his account. That Vader was going to kill Ozzel was bad enough.

This earned him an appraising glance. “Who exactly are you, Commander?”

“Commander Luke Skywalker, Rebel Alliance,” he replied, for the third time that day. Though it might have been more than a day since he had been captured. It was difficult enough to tell time in space without the added complication of being locked in a windowless cell for half of it and unconscious for the other.

“Skywalker?” The Captain looked startled. At least _someone_ recognized his name. “You have quite the bounty on your head. There’s been a lot of speculation about why Lord Vader wants you.”

Luke almost told him the official reason, but his father’s warning rang in his ears and even though the captain was amiable enough _now_ , there was no telling how he would react if he knew Luke had destroyed the Death Star.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself. I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Are you really Alliance? My guess would be one of Lord Vader’s agents, undercover in the Rebellion perhaps.”

Luke smiled. “No, I’m really Alliance. I was caught by Ozzel while trying to steal sensitive Imperial data from the computer system on Sluis Van.” Luke felt a spear of annoyance from the Captain at this declaration.

“Why would Lord Vader care so much about a Rebellion Commander?”

“If he did not tell you, then it is not my place to say,” he repeated. “Although I won’t stop you from guessing, and I might even let you know if you get it right.” He was fairly certain the Captain would never guess that he was Vader’s son. When nothing was forthcoming, he glanced at the Captain out of the corner of his eye. “You seem to believe me when I say that he actually wants me alive. Why?”

“I heard his threats firsthand. He sounded… frantic, after you were shot. If you were merely going to be held for interrogation, he would not have been so distressed over your death. As only a Commander, I doubt you would have too much important intel. And even if you did, he would be more likely to be angry at your death than distraught. Even the death of one of his favorite intelligence agents would not have provoked that response, so I must admit you are quite a puzzle.”

“I’m a walking enigma,” he responded cheerfully. The Captain looked at him then and started laughing.

“I have never seen anyone, Rebel or Imperial, so calm when they know Lord Vader is coming for them. I can’t figure you out, kid.” Luke stilled at that pet name. The only person who ever called him “kid” was Han. He’d hated it at first, but now he feared he would never hear it again.

“Are you okay?”

Luke shook his head. “Yeah. Sorry. I just… lost a friend who used to call me that.”

“I’m sorry.”

He tried to smile and knew it looked pained. “It’s not your fault.” _It’s mine._

Their conversation lapsed into silence and Luke descended into thoughts of his friends. How was Leia handling his capture? After losing Han, he knew this must be devastating for her. Especially since she did not know the truth, did not know that Vader would not kill him, would never hurt him. He found himself regretting his decision not to tell her. At least then she might have understood.

And _Han_. He and Leia had been well on their way to a plan with Lando and Chewbacca, but with Luke in the hands of the Empire he would be unable to help rescue Han. His role had been pivotal and he was unsure if they would be able to rework it without him. But they would have to. Luke held no illusions. Now that Vader had him, he knew he would not be allowed to leave and escape seemed highly unlikely. 

The Captain slowed his steps and Luke pulled himself out of his thoughts. They stopped in front of a door, one of many identical doors in one of many identical corridors, and Luke had to wonder how the Captain knew where they were. He released Luke’s arm and entered a code into the data pad set into the wall and the door slid open.

“Here we are, sir. A guest suite with a viewport, as requested. Not that you will be able to see much out of it at the moment.” His voice was difficult to read, but his mind still swarmed with unbridled curiosity and skepticism. Apparently, he still didn’t believe that Luke was a legitimate Rebel. 

“Heh, thanks.” Luke smiled wryly. “I’m just glad to be out of the medbay.”

“Understandable.” The Captain stood outside the door awkwardly for a moment. Luke sighed.

“Go ahead. It’s fine,” he said, knowing what was coming.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I have been instructed to lock you in.” For his part, the Captain was regretful about the whole thing.

Luke nodded. “I figured as much.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the logical thing to do. Technically I’m still a prisoner, albeit an unusual one.” _It’s probably as much for my protection as anything. I’m betting the Captain and Vader are the only ones who know the code for this room._

“I will send someone up with food for you. I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since you were brought on board.”

“I have not.” In truth, Luke had been too distracted to even think about food, but now that it had been mentioned he felt the stirrings of hunger in his stomach. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Commander.”

Luke gave him a genuine smile. He liked this Captain, Imperial or not.

“We will reach the rendezvous point above Tatooine in about 25 hours. I suggest you get some rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Commander. I doubt I will see you again.”

“You never know.” _If I stay with Vader, we very well could meet again._

The Captain gave him a small smile. “Don’t lose that optimism. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

“Yes, sir,” Luke said again, not sure what else there was to say. There was an awkward moment of silence before the Captain turned away and touched the keypad. The door slid closed and locked with a quiet _click_. Knowing it was pointless to try to open the door, he turned away from it. He did not really feel the need to escape yet anyways. There was nowhere for him to go.

His room was decorated, and he used that term lightly, in the standard Imperial gray and black. The front room that he stood in appeared to be an office of sorts, with a desk and chair. The desk and walls were bare and the only thing of interest in the room was the large viewport that occupied the far wall. It was currently shuttered, but Luke knew that with the touch of a button he would be able to see the hypnotic swirling blue of hyperspace. 

He wandered through the door on his left and found himself in the bedroom. Again, it was sparse and simple. The sheets on the bed were gray and a small dresser stood in the corner next to a door that Luke guessed led to the refresher. But his attention had been captured by the bed and he fell more than sat down on the edge of it as his exhaustion caught up to him. He flopped back and closed his eyes.

 _“You’ll be happy to hear I have made it safely to my new accommodations,”_ he sent to his father, his tone as sarcastic as he could make it in his sleepiness.

_“You sound tired, son.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Get some rest.”_

_“Planning on it.”_

_**“Sleep.”**_ The command was heavy with the Force and Luke felt his mind start to slip into the darkness of unconsciousness. He managed to roll over so he was fully on the bed before he lost his hold on awareness.


	4. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke finally wakes up from his nap and we have our first look at the Galaxy from Vader's POV. Vader has doubts about his plans and Luke is bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was later than expected. It's also a bit shorter than the first two. It's a bit of a filler chapter, but still important.  
> I got writer's block and then school decided to throw a bunch of work at me. Finals are approaching, but by next weekend, I should have a lot more free time and hopefully I can write more consistently.

Luke woke feeling very disoriented. It was a feeling he often got when waking up at a new base for the first time. But as soon as he opened his eyes, he sat up quickly. Rebel bases were never this quiet, never this uniform gray. He never had a room to himself; he always shared a bunk with Wedge…

He groaned as memories tumbled back into place. He was on the Star Destroyer _Subjugator_. He had been captured by Imperials. He flopped back onto the bed and ran his hands over his face. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the slight vibrations of the ship as it traveled through hyperspace.

_Not to Tatooine yet, then. Probably a good thing or it would mean I had slept for 25 hours. I don’t even think that’s possible._

He glanced at his wrist, habitually searching for the chrono on his comlink before remembering that it had been confiscated by Ozzel. He groaned again and rolled over, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. He was pleased to find he could stand without any problems. Apparently his dizziness _had_ been a symptom of his exhaustion.

He rotated his shoulder, testing it for pain. There was a dull ache, but it was nowhere near the constant throb that had been present the day before. That was something, at least. He glanced around the room, now awake enough to actually pay attention to his surroundings. He was pleased to see a chrono on the wall. A quick glance at it told him that he had been in Imperial custody for almost a day and a half. But he had no way of knowing where each of those hours had been spent.

Luke’s stomach now cramped with hunger. He had not eaten since his last meal before leaving on the Sluis Van mission with Leia and Chewie. He remembered the Captain’s promise to send food and he wandered out to the entrance room of the suite. The door between the rooms swished open at his approach.

Dim light suffused through the room from the fixtures on the ceiling. It gave the place a cozy feel, as cozy as an office on an Imperial Star Destroyer could be. It didn’t necessarily make him feel comfortable, but it was definitely better than the intensely bright lights of the detention center and the medbay.

A pitcher of water and a glass had been left on the desk in the office. Luke poured himself a glass and winced as the liquid passed his dry throat. Although it helped soothe his scratchy throat, it did little for his empty stomach. But he must have slept for at least several hours after his father’s Force suggestion, so it made sense that anyone the Captain had sent would not leave the food out. He glanced around the room again, hoping for a comlink or some other way to contact someone, but saw nothing.

 _I bet they have surveillance in here,_ he thought, grimacing. The idea that his every move was being watched by Imperials was distasteful but not unexpected. If they really were keeping an eye on him, they would know he was awake and hopefully send food soon. All he had to do in the meantime was wait.

He slowly sipped at his water, knowing that it wasn’t smart to drink it too quickly after being deprived of it for so long. If growing up on a desert planet had taught him anything, it was how to deal with dehydration.

His eyes were drawn to the blinds covering the viewport. He knew there would be nothing to see but the blue of hyperspace, but space in any form demanded the attention of the pilot in him. He wandered over to the control panel on the wall next to the viewport and pushed the button to raise the blinds. The hypnotic swirl did nothing for the dim lighting in the room, nor did it really provide anything particularly interesting to look at, but the familiarity of it made Luke feel slightly better.

 _And it has nothing to do with the fact that every parsec brings me closer to Vader,_ some part of his mind thought sarcastically. But he could not deny that he was on some level looking forward to their meeting. It was overshadowed by apprehension and he tried to bury it in caution, but he knew the excitement was there. Now that he had accepted their relationship, he wanted another chance to speak with him face to face. Or face to mask, rather.

The door chime buzzed and Luke turned away from the viewport in time to see the door slide open and a silver protocol droid enter the room with a covered tray. His jacket was folded over the droid’s arm and Luke resisted making a face at the sight of it. He had no desire to wear the restrictive piece of clothing, especially not with his injured shoulder. But the return of his jacket sparked the small but unlikely hope that maybe his other possessions, his comlink and his lightsaber, would be returned with it.

Two stormtroopers hovered outside the door, presumably the droid’s escort to prevent Luke from making a dash for the door when it was opened. It was unnecessary, as he had no intentions of making an escape attempt, but it was the logical thing to do. Especially considering that he was _Vader’s_ prize, of all people's. Best not to risk the Dark Lord’s retribution by letting him get away.

The droid crossed the room to him and set the tray on the desk, laying the jacket next to it. Without a word, it turned to go and Luke frowned. He was used to the endless chatter of C-3PO and the sarcastic beeping of R2-D2. Encountering a droid that did not speak to him at all was a bit unsettling.

“Thank you,” he called after it.

The droid stopped and turned to look at him. “No need to thank me, sir.”

Obviously whoever had programmed this droid had belabored under the impression that droids should be seen and not heard, doing their jobs without being noticed or commended. Luke felt a flare of frustration and annoyance. One of the many things the Empire was doing wrong. Not that the Alliance was perfect, there were still plenty of people there who treated droids like they were nothing, but they were a far sight better than the Empire.

“I may not _need_ to thank you, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“Whatever you say, sir.” The droid continued walking to the door and Luke gave up. The thing about droids was that you couldn’t change their programming with mere words.

As soon as the door to the guest suite was closed and locked, Luke moved over to the desk. He gave the jacket a cursory glance, noting with some chagrin that it didn’t seem to be worse for the wear after its encounter with the deflected blaster bolt. There was no lightsaber or comlink to be seen and even though he had known the chances of them being returned to him were negligible, he still felt the disappointment keenly. He could only hope that they would be turned over to Vader, and that his father would see fit to eventually return them.

He lifted the lid off the tray, not sure what to expect from Imperial rations. He was pleased, and mildly impressed, to see a bowl of some kind of soup and a sandwich. Luke doubted this was standard fare for stormtroopers, let alone dubious “guests.” The Captain’s respect for Vader was again playing in his favor. Sliding the tray across the desk, he walked around it to the chair and sat down to eat his first meal in nearly two days.

~*~

Darth Vader stood at the central viewport of the _Executor_ ’s bridge and resisted the urge to pace. They would reach Tatooine in roughly six hours and the anxiety twisting in his stomach was not something he would ever admit to. Despite the knowledge that Luke had sought _him_ out this time, despite the civil and almost _pleasant_ conversations they had had telepathically, doubts whispered in his mind. Surely the boy would try to flee. He had only contacted him because he was scared for his life, he still hated him, feared him… Vader shut those thoughts down quickly. It would not help him to dwell on it. Time would tell what Luke’s reaction would be and though fear fed the Dark Side, what he was feeling now was not proper fear. It was an emotion he had not felt for over two decades and he could not put his prosthetic finger on the name of it.

He reached tentatively along the bond as he had done countless times since sending the stubborn child to sleep nearly 12 hours previously. That he had slept that long was more proof of how exhausted he had been. But perhaps it was for the best. Hyperspace travel was mind-numbingly boring without proper distractions and Luke would have none. He doubted the impatient boy had the focus necessary to spend the time immersed in the Force.

This time, his cautious nudge of Luke’s consciousness did not go unnoticed. His son’s almost blindingly bright Force presence turned its attention to him before he was able to retreat. There were no words, but rather his pure curiosity for Vader’s reason in contacting him.

 _“I was merely checking to see if you were still asleep,”_ the Dark Lord said.

 _And making sure you were still on board the_ Subjugator, he added silently. There was no way for someone to leave a ship while it was in hyperspace, but Luke’s uncanny ability to escape him kept him on edge despite the impossibility. He would not lose him again, not when he was this close. This time, Luke would have no escape, not even the option of death. He would finally have his son at his side, where the boy belonged, no matter what it took.

 _“How long was I asleep?”_ Luke asked, his mental voice nearly identical to his speaking voice. Nearly, but not quite. It was softer somehow, gentler, or maybe that was just because the only times Vader had heard his son’s actual voice were in the Death Star hangar after Obi-Wan’s death and on Cymoon-1 and Bespin during their fights. All three times, the boy had been distressed or angry and his voice would have taken on an edge that it normally would not carry. He pushed these musings from his mind and returned his attention to the actual conversation.

_“Nearly 12 hours.”_

_“Yeesh. So I’ve got, what, another 13 before we get to Tatooine? What am I supposed to do with myself when I’m locked up in this room?”_

Vader heard the distinctive wheedling tone and suppressed a sigh. It was only one of many sounds his vocoder could not interpret but it was the one he missed the most.

 _“I am not authorizing you to roam freely on a Star Destroyer.”_ He infused his voice with as much disapproving sarcasm as he could, hoping to head off any more protests. It worked marginally, as he received a brief impression of Luke pouting in response but he did not press the point.

 _“I didn’t ask for **that.** Even I know that would be too much. I am still technically a prisoner, even if there are no cuffs.”_ There was a long pause and Vader felt Luke gathering his thoughts. When his son finally spoke again, his mental voice was so quiet that it would have been difficult to hear had it been spoken aloud.

_“What do you plan on doing with me now?”_

And there it was. The fear that Vader had been dreading. Luke was attempting to shield it from him, but it still sung clearly across their bond and seared his mind. Self-revulsion coursed through him. It was not an unfamiliar sensation, and indeed his hatred of himself had helped sustain him throughout his apprenticeship to Palpatine, but now it was sharper and tinged with guilt. _He_ was responsible for the fear and anxiety tainting his son’s bright Force presence. It darkened it in a way that made him uneasy, though he could not say why. Fear was the first step on the path to the Dark Side, the path he intended to push Luke down. He should be pleased. This was what he wanted, right?

Then why did it feel so wrong?

Making sure his shields were strong as durasteel, he cast his mind forward into the Force, searching for answers. He had never had much success with foresight. That was always the Emperor’s domain and the few times he had been… _gifted_ knowledge of the future, it had turned out disastrously. For an endless moment it seemed he would be granted nothing this time, but then there was a brief flicker of red and he reached for it.

Screams echoed in his ears and he caught a glimpse of Luke’s face, eyes sickly yellow, obvious even through the red haze of Vader’s mask, a maniacal grin on his lips, a red lightsaber humming in his hand. The hilt of the saber was splattered with blood and though the background was blurry and Vader had no way to tell where they were standing, he somehow _knew_ the ground was littered with bodies.

Vader retreated quickly from the vision, unwilling to watch it play out to the end. He felt vaguely sick, though he was unsure entirely why. He had been surrounded by death all his life and since taking up the mantle of the Sith he had immersed himself in violence. And Luke was by no means innocent even now. He had killed many TIE pilots in dogfights and he had the deaths of millions on his head from the destruction of the Death Star, though by his own admission he felt guilty about that. But the sight of him covered in blood and _grinning_ …

The silence in their link had dragged on for long enough that Luke’s apprehension had elevated, waiting for his response. But Vader’s brief search for answers had left him even more unsure than he had been previously. It was a bitter thought, but perhaps it would be possible, even preferable, to have Luke at his side _without_ turning him… He would meditate on it. He needed to better understand what the Force was saying before he made a decision.

 _“You know what I want from you,”_ he replied ambiguously, not willing to let his son feel or hear his doubts. Until he knew for sure what he wanted, he would have to act as though he still intended to turn him.

Luke’s panic spiked, but this time it was laced with defiance. _“I will **never** turn. I will die first.”_

 _“Death is no longer an option for you,”_ Vader replied, his voice nearly a growl. He projected anger at Luke to cover the icy fear creeping up his spine and infringing on his mind. At his sides, his gloved hands clenched into tight fists, the durasteel fingers digging into the palms with enough pressure to make his entire arm tremble. _“It never should have been one in the first place.”_ He made his displeasure with his son’s actions on Bespin very clear through their bond and felt him shrink away from the heavy disapproval.

 _“I didn’t… It wasn’t… Killing myself wasn’t my intent!”_ Luke snapped, bristling defensively.

_“You could have fooled me. What did you **think** was going to happen when you let go of the gantry?”_

_“I didn’t think. I just wanted to get away and that was the only option.”_

Again, guilt stabbed through Vader’s chest. He snarled audibly and sent a nearby lieutenant scurrying away in alarm. He had not felt these emotions for a long time and he did not appreciate their resurgence now. They would only be a distraction and, more importantly, they would alert his Master to the changes being wrought in him, the effect Luke had on him. It was imperative that he not allow the Emperor to see his weakness or he would use it as an excuse to take his son from him and train the boy himself.

 _“Do you hate your own father so much?”_ He was far more interested in the answer than his light tone implied. How he handled his son from here depended heavily on the child’s reply to this question.

It seemed to catch Luke by surprise. _“I don’t hate you!”_ The words were saturated with honesty and Vader released some of the tension that had been building in his body. This would make things easier. _“I was in shock and I did not want to join you. Still don’t. I let go because those were my only two options.”_

Luke’s reluctance to rule the Empire would be dealt with in time, once he had his trust and loyalty. If nothing else, at least his son hated the Emperor as much as he did and would not be opposed to removing him. He would start there.

 _“You may come to change your mind about joining me,”_ he warned. There was a subtle threat in his words, though he doubted he would ever actually act on whatever Luke was imagining he meant by it.

 _“I guess we will see.”_ Vader sensed Luke’s reluctance to have an actual argument now and shared the sentiment.

 _“Indeed.”_ He let the subject drop. _“I will be arriving at Tatooine several hours ahead of you and will be ready to collect you as soon as you enter orbit. Be prepared to leave as soon as you reach the system.”_

 _“Sure. Not like I have anything to pack,”_ Luke replied sarcastically. _“I hope you will be able to get more clothes for me. I’m not wearing this uniform for the rest of my life.”_

_“That will not be a problem.”_

_“I would hope not, considering the size of the bounty you placed on my head. Now that I know it was a personal bounty, not a general Imperial one. How rich are you, anyways?”_ It was more rhetorical than an actual question, and it wasn’t one Vader was inclined to answer in any case. He honestly did not know how many credits he had to his name, and he did not particularly care.

 _“The only way I could insure that you were delivered directly to me if caught was if I was the one who placed the bounty. No one else in the Empire would have a claim on you over me. And I was listed as the contact for the official nameless one as well, though I did not expect anyone to try to turn you in for **that** one.”_ He had continued to keep a tight grip on all information linking Luke to the destruction of the Death Star, even after all his “rivals” had been eradicated.

 _“Couldn’t the Emperor override your bounty?”_ The shiver of fear that accompanied this question would have translated to Luke’s voice being shaky.

Vader hesitated. _“It would certainly be within his power,”_ he admitted reluctantly. _“But he would not want to showcase any division between us for the Galaxy to see.”_

 _“Is there division?”_ Vader was hit with a surge of Luke’s curiosity.

 _“We do not always see eye-to-eye on certain topics.”_ He did not want to reveal the specific political differences between himself and the Emperor to his son just yet. It would only serve to spark a debate between them about the Empire versus the Republic, and a telepathic conversation from across light years of space was not the best place for such an important discussion. Nor was it the best place to discuss the Emperor’s specific plans for Luke, though they would certainly need to be addressed soon, for his son’s safety if nothing else.

_“Topics such as me?”_

It would seem that the boy’s insatiable curiosity and perceptiveness would continue to be a nuisance.

_“We have had… disagreements… concerning your fate, yes.”_

This was the crux of the matter, the biggest thing Vader was worried about. He could deal with his son’s reluctance, given enough time and with enough persuasions. But his Master was a force he could not control nor predict with any certainty. He could only hope that Palpatine would choose to sit back and see how things played out before taking action, as he usually did.

It was likely that the Emperor would at least use him to turn Luke, and perhaps even allow him the initial training, before attempting to take the boy for himself. By that point, though, Luke would never willingly betray his father, if his penchant for loyalty was anything to go by. Vader was glad that his Master did not know the child as well as he did, or he would never risk letting them be together for any length of time. But he would have to have a plan in place in the event that the Emperor foresaw this and _did_ move to take Luke immediately. He would rather have Luke be far away from both of them than under his Master’s influence.

Before his son could ask another question, Vader shut down the topic, the warning thick in his voice.

 _“This is not the time for this discussion.”_ Communicating via the Force over this large of a distance would send ripples in the Force and if Palpatine was paying attention, he could potentially pick up on at least the undercurrents of the conversation. This was something they could not risk. Not if they were both going to survive.

~*~

Luke’s curiosity was by no means satisfied and his unease was stronger than ever, but he sent his acknowledgment and understanding to Vader. He would have no chance of prying information out of him now, so it was best not to anger him by trying.

He did not know what else to say to his father, so he withdrew from the link and opened his eyes. After finishing eating, he had moved back into the bedroom and promptly collapsed back onto the bed. He was not tired, necessarily, but boredom tended to make him sleepy and there was nothing else to do. Until Vader had contacted him, he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. Now he sprawled across the sheets, right arm tucked under his head and one leg dangling off the edge of the bed.

His eyes found the chrono on the wall and he sighed. He had only been awake for roughly an hour and he had no idea how he was going to entertain himself until he reached Tatooine. If he had his lightsaber, he could at least practice his forms. Though he supposed he could run through them _without_ his blade, it wouldn’t be as effective. There was also the possibility of reworking Han’s rescue plan to adjust for his absence, but unless he was given the opportunity to contact Leia, it wouldn’t be of much use to anyone. And contemplating his own uncertain fate would only make him anxious. He sighed again.

It was going to be a long day.


	5. In The Empire's Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader finally meet face-to-face (or face-to-mask, rather). Vader fusses over his child, Luke has unexpected emotions, and they have a very important conversation with far-reaching consequences.  
> We also get to see a bit of what Leia's been up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 of my 7 finals are done, and in celebration, here is a new chapter!  
> In other news, I realized that this story needs more at the very beginning before launching into the action, so my next update will be a new Chapter 1 and all the other chapters will be shifted to accommodate.

Time crawled even as the light years flew by under the powerful hyperdrive of the Star Destroyer. Luke had taken to glancing at the chrono every five standard minutes. Even as the anxious knot in his stomach twisted tighter with each passing parsec, he wanted the journey to be over. Even if what waited for him at the end of it was Darth Vader and an uncertain future.

The ship shuddered as it reverted to realspace and Luke sat up, perching on the edge of the bed like a bird about to take flight. He took several deep, calming breaths and attempted to release at least some of his anxiety into the Force. He was not very successful and soon gave the exercise up as futile.

Luke felt the engines reduce power as they entered orbit around Tatooine. It would not be long now before Vader arrived on the ship to claim him, only the time that it took his shuttle to travel between the _Executor_ and the _Subjugator_. He could delay no longer. He picked up the uniform jacket from where he had tossed it on the dresser and grimaced as he put it on, careful not to jostle his shoulder too much when he pulled the sleeve over his left arm. It was uncomfortable enough even without being completely fastened and he decided against zipping it up, opting just to attach the shoulder clasps to keep the second layer of fabric in place. He wanted it as loose as possible, considering his shoulder, and these uniforms were designed for a sleek appearance rather than comfort. 

He went into the office and though the viewport promised a spectacular view of space, he could not bring himself to look at his home planet. Instead he paced around the room, anticipation clawing relentlessly at his mind even as apprehension clutched his heart. He _would not turn_ , no matter what Vader offered him. The fierce vow he made was as much in reminder to himself as it was in unspoken defiance to his father. He still harbored guilt over the slight temptation the offer held for him.

Luke raked his fingers through his already-disheveled hair. He could never allow his father to feel these doubts or he would use them against him. Though he had never held even the slightest desire for political power before Vader had extended his hand to him above the reactor shaft on Bespin and he suspected the appeal came more from the idea of having a father than actually ruling the Empire.

His eyes caught sight of movement outside the viewport and he stopped pacing to watch the shuttle’s progress. He lightly touched the Force and felt the impossible nearness of Vader’s presence. There was no doubt that that was the Dark Lord’s shuttle. Luke followed the cold fire’s progress through the Force, careful to keep from actually activating the link between them, though he wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Vader knew he was being tracked. It wasn’t long before Luke could feel his father directly outside the guest suite and he turned to face the door as it slid open.

“Father.” The word fell smoothly, easily, from Luke’s lips and he took a faltering step towards the dark silhouette in the doorway. He was acutely aware that the last time they had seen each other was when he had let go of the gantry and fallen, presumably to his death, rather than go with Vader. It seemed a bit pointless now. He hadn’t really accomplished anything between then and now, except perhaps coming to terms with their relationship.

He laughed, a quiet, strained sound, full of bitter humor. “Here we are. I guess you have me now.”

Vader did not reply but he crossed the room in a few long strides until he stood directly in front of Luke. He slowly raised one gloved hand and tilted Luke’s head back with gentle fingers on his chin. Luke resisted shying away from the touch.

 _He will not hurt me,_ he reminded himself, careful to keep his thoughts behind his mental shields.

Despite the mask, Luke could feel Vader’s eyes on his face, examining him closely. He brushed his thumb lightly against Luke’s left cheek and he flinched, hissing in a breath through his teeth. Dimly, Luke recalled the Lieutenant-Commander hitting him across the face. The bruise must have been overlooked in light of his other, more pressing injuries when he was in the medbay.

“I will have a medic put a bacta patch on that.”

“Thanks,” Luke muttered, trying not to move his jaw as Vader’s fingers were still holding his chin.

His father again did not reply but continued his scrutiny of Luke’s face. Luke submitted to it without protest, realizing that this was the first time he was seeing his son up close and in good lighting.

_This must be so strange for him._

Luke could also feel Vader’s Force presence coiling around him, presumably assessing his physical condition, much as he had when Luke had first contacted him. It was somehow so much more potent when they were in the same room and it almost felt like he was being physically touched. It was a little unnerving, though not entirely uncomfortable.

Finally, Vader released his chin and took half a step back out of Luke’s personal space.

“You have bruises on both sides of your face, I assume from being struck multiple times, a mild concussion from the same, and of course the blaster wound on your shoulder. How is your stomach?” There was bitter anger in his voice, a barely restrained rage at whoever had dared to hurt his child.

Luke placed his hand on his stomach and smiled wryly. “A bit tender. Stormtrooper armour makes punches hurt a lot worse than they normally would.”

Vader gestured for Luke to hold his hand out and he obliged, although warily. Vader took the offered hand and turned it over slowly, examining it.

“You were smart enough not to fight the binders, I see.” At Luke’s curious glance, Vader explained, “There are no restraint marks.”

“Why would I fight them? I could easily have taken them off with the Force at any time. In fact, I did. After the first shot he fired at me.”

Vader didn’t comment, but Luke felt him tense at the mention of him being shot at.

“How is your hand?”

Luke realized belatedly that the hand he had offered Vader was his prosthetic one.

He shrugged nonchalantly, with only his right shoulder to avoid aggravating the injury on his left. “Half the time I forget it’s not real.”

“You have no sensory problems with it?”

“No. They did a good job on it.”

Vader raised his head and despite the mask Luke somehow knew his father was meeting his eyes.

“I sense no anger from you.”

“I’ve had time to process what happened at Bespin.” He knew Vader was aware he was talking about more than just losing his hand. “Of course I was angry at first, but I’ve forgiven you for it.”

Vader’s hand tightened reflexively around Luke’s wrist. “You have no reason to forgive me.”

“Nevertheless.” He shrugged again. “No _real_ harm done, in the long run. What would be the point in staying angry with you?” Luke did not mention that holding onto his anger would have also pushed him closer to the Dark Side.

Vader swore in Huttese, the familiar rough words sounding so out of place in Vader’s rumbling baritone that they startled an incredulous laugh from Luke. “I _cut off your hand_! How can you be so – ” He fell silent as words failed him.

The Force was in turmoil around his father, guilt and confusion charging the air around them like static electricity. Luke stepped forward and placed his left hand on his father’s other arm, ignoring the pain the movement caused to his injured shoulder. Vader drew in a sharp breath that was out of sync with his respirator.

“You’re my father, and beyond all reason, I – ” Luke stopped himself, the unbidden words sitting bittersweet on his tongue. The Force lashed him with the truth of his unspoken words, but he couldn’t give voice to them, not yet.

_I love you._

Somehow, it was true, though Luke didn’t know when he had realized it. Didn’t know if he ever actually had, until this moment.

“I know that – ” he tried again, failed, and changed what he was going to say entirely. “Besides, you have me now and considering that you spent four years chasing me, you’re not about to let me go. If I’m going to be staying with you, it might be best to start with a clean slate.” He said it lightly, but anxiety coiled in his stomach at the thought. Although he had known this was coming from the moment he had contacted Vader, he had not really planned past being rescued from the vengeful Lieutenant-Commander. He had shied away from thinking too much about it, hoping the situation would somehow resolve itself, and now the reality of his position crushed in on him. He was at Vader’s mercy. Had practically handed himself over to him, neatly gift-wrapped. He may inexplicably love his father, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still terrified of him, of his plans for their lives, of his offer that was just slightly too tempting.

Luke suddenly couldn’t look up at his father anymore and he dropped his gaze, bowing his head under the weight of his conflicted emotions. He let out a shaky breath and allowed his hand to fall from Vader’s arm.

Vader released his wrist but before Luke could take a step back, a gloved hand was cupped under his chin and his head was tilted back. Luke stubbornly refused to raise his eyes, sliding his gaze down and to his right.

“Look at me, son,” Vader commanded, his voice oddly gentle despite the fact that it was an order and Luke knew he expected to be obeyed. Vader waited, seemingly patiently, but Luke could feel his growing annoyance through the Force and he finally flickered his eyes up to meet his father’s. He started speaking as soon as he had Luke’s gaze.

“I want you by my side. I want to give you the Galaxy. But I want you to come to me willingly. I do not want you to resent me. I want, no I _need_ , your loyalty.”

Luke stared at Vader, unsure what he was hearing. Was Vader offering to let him go? Or did he just want Luke to pledge himself to him in a facsimile of free will so he could sleep easier at night, knowing that his son had “chosen” him?

“If I keep you here, you will eventually hate me, though you do not seem to at the moment. I would need to keep you contained until you surrendered to my will. You would inevitably try to escape and end up getting yourself killed.”

Luke again had a flashback of falling off the gantry at Bespin and he was sure the same image was in his father’s mind as well.

“And if we are not united against the Emperor, he will kill us both. Or take you as his own apprentice and twist you to his desires. I do not want to see you in his hands.” Vader’s voice fell to a volume Luke did not know the vocoder could produce. There was pain in his quiet voice and it clutched at Luke’s chest, constricting it until each breath hurt.

“Not that I would live long enough to see what you would become. He would force you to kill me, as your first act of loyalty to him.” The Force tasted bitter at these words and Luke saw a brief flash of dual-wielded blue and red lightsabers held crisscrossed before Vader locked the memory away behind his shields.

If he had been unable to read his father’s emotions through the Force, he might have believed that these words were merely a ploy to sway him to his side. But he could feel his father’s genuine sadness and the conflict within him.

“I will never kill you,” Luke vowed.

“You may not be given a choice, my son.”

“There is always a choice.”

“Your own death is not an acceptable option!” Vader snarled, removing his hand from Luke’s chin before curling it into a tight fist.

“I’ve chosen it before,” Luke snapped back. It seemed this would be a recurring argument between them.

“You should not have.” His rage was building, the dark fire of his Force presence stoking into a near inferno and Luke locked his knees to prevent himself from taking a step back.

“Perhaps I should not have,” Luke tried to appease him. “But I did and nothing can change that. I don’t regret it.”

Belatedly, Luke realized that his father’s anger was not directed at him specifically, but rather the thought of his death and the idea that Luke would put himself in that position again. His honest words were not helping to calm him, but he would not lie, not about this. He knew he was more than willing to sacrifice his own life for what he believed and nothing would change that.

“I do not want to die, Father. But I don’t want to kill you either and if my refusal to causes my death, then so be it. I _will not_ kill you.”

Vader turned away from Luke, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I am your father. I should be the one to die to protect you, not the other way around.”

Luke’s eyes widened in surprise. That was a distinctly un-Sith-like thing to say and he did not know how to respond to it. Finally he forced words past his lips.

“It will hopefully not come to that. I want us both to survive this.” He stepped forward so he stood at his father’s right side and placed his hand back on his arm before swinging around to face him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself against his next words. He could feel the tipping point of fate, the precipice upon which he stood and he prayed he was making the right choice.

“I will stand by your side, Father, against the Emperor.”

The Force lurched sickeningly and swirled around and between them, seeming to bind them together. Their connection deepened and brightened to an almost blinding intensity and Luke gasped at the flood of emotions he felt from his father. Several minutes seemed to pass before the turmoil settled, though it had probably only been a few seconds, and Luke gasped for air, realizing he had been holding his breath.

“What just happened?” he questioned, his voice barely audible. He had expected a shift, but not to feel it that strongly.

“You created a very large disturbance in the Force.” Vader’s voice was unreadable and he had closed off his emotions from Luke, but his son could still feel an undercurrent of fierce joy and worry. “You must have truly meant those words to garner that sort of reaction from the Force.”

“Of course I meant them. I will not turn to the Dark Side and I do not want to rule the Galaxy, but I will help you defeat the Emperor.” He hesitated. It was best to keep his political alignment clear, even if it caused the argument they had both been avoiding. “I don’t support the Empire. I’m still a Rebellion Commander and I want the restoration of the Republic.”

“We can work out those details later,” Vader said quickly and Luke narrowed his eyes at him.

“I won’t change my mind. If you take the throne, I will be forced to leave your side.”

“And if I put you on the throne?” There was a dangerous challenge lurking in those words and Luke’s quick answer stalled on his tongue. He hesitated for a long moment before finally speaking.

“I would dissolve the Empire. Reinstate the Senate. Bring back the Republic.”

“Hmm.” Vader’s tone was somehow thoughtful and though he had locked his feelings tightly behind his shields, Luke could still sense him considering his son’s words.

“We will continue this discussion later,” he finally said. He placed a hand lightly on Luke’s right shoulder. “Now we should return to the _Executor_.”

Luke could feel Vader’s eyes searching his face and tendrils of his Force presence gently teased at Luke’s thoughts and emotions, poking lightly at the barrier he had in his mind. Cautiously, Luke lowered his shields, allowing Vader in. It was an odd sensation, feeling his father searching carefully through his intentions.

“I won’t run,” Luke ventured, realizing what it was Vader was looking for. He felt his father’s mental fingers grasp at the honesty in his statement and then they slowly withdrew. Vader nodded and their bond lit up with his satisfaction and poorly concealed happiness. Dark fire wrapped around Luke possessively and it felt like both an embrace and restraint.

“You will be given free rein on my flagship, assuming you continue to behave.” There was humor under that statement and Luke gave him a lopsided grin. “Most of the time I will want you by my side, but if I am in a meeting you are not allowed in, you may wander where you please. My crew will be informed of your presence and freedom.”

Vader withdrew a lightsaber from under his cloak and with a shock, Luke recognized it as his. His father held it for a long moment before hesitantly offering it back to Luke.

“You trust me enough to arm me?” Luke asked, only slightly serious. Something had shifted between them after Luke’s declaration. The Force had acknowledged their alliance and it felt oddly binding. Somehow Luke doubted he would be able to betray his father, even if he wanted to, and he had a brief flash of fear. What had he gotten himself into?

“Force vows are powerful things,” Vader replied. “Powerful enough that I am confident you can be trusted with this. And in light of what happened with Ozzel, it would be foolish of me to keep you unarmed.”

Luke accepted the lightsaber from his father and felt as though their tenuous alliance was sealed with the action. He moved to clip it onto his belt but Vader’s hand stopped him.

“Do not display it. It will cause too many questions we are not yet prepared to answer.”

Luke nodded and tucked it into his jacket. It would be harder to get to quickly, but the fact that he was wearing the jacket unzipped would help. And hopefully he would not need it anytime soon.

 _I somehow feel like I’ve betrayed the Rebellion,_ he thought, repressing a grimace. In a way, he had. By preemptively agreeing to stand with his father, he had forestalled any bargain for freedom Vader might otherwise have offered. He was not returning to the Alliance, at least not in the foreseeable future, and in all appearances it would seem like he had defected to the Empire. He was a figurehead of the Rebellion, their Last Hope, and for him to leave… Not only would they be left without their Jedi, the morale of the Alliance would suffer. He somehow had to contact them and let them know at least some of what was really going on, as much as he could tell them without revealing who he was. Although if he were to stand at Vader’s side openly, perhaps his father would not keep their relationship a secret from the Galaxy.

“Do you want the Galaxy to know you are my son?” Vader asked. Luke jumped, and panicked, realizing that he had neglected to raise his mental shields after allowing Vader in. He quickly threw them back up, mentally cursing as he felt Vader’s amusement.

“I…” Luke trailed off, unsure. He had never given it much thought, since he had never considered that he might stand with Vader in view of the Galaxy, might be claimed as Vader’s heir. Despite Leia and Wedge’s insistent pleading, he had not told them nor anyone else what had happened on Bespin between him and Vader. He was reluctant to reveal that Vader was his father, out of fear of rejection and distrust.

He was startled from his thoughts by a hand settling on his shoulder.

“You do not have to decide now. We have time.”

Luke nodded, still unsure of what he was doing. He could feel Vader’s sharp desire and knew he wanted to publicly claim him.

“Will you let me contact Leia?” he asked.

Vader’s helmet tilted slightly and he was silent for a long moment.

“You want to bargain?”

Luke met Vader’s eyes and nodded slowly. “I want the Rebellion to know I haven’t abandoned them. You heard my thoughts about this earlier,” he said, his voice colored slightly with accusation.

“Indeed I did. I was hoping you might change your mind and join me.” His hand tightened briefly on Luke’s shoulder.

“I told you that I wouldn’t.”

Vader considered him for another long moment. “I will allow you to contact your Princess if you let me claim you as my son and heir in view of the Galaxy _and_ you agree to let me train you.”

Luke gaped at him. “I also told you I wouldn’t turn to the Dark Side.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and realized too late to stop himself that he had just copied one of Vader’s signature moves.

“I did not say train you in the Dark Side. I will allow you to cling to your Light Side, for now. But there are many things that belong to neither the Light nor the Dark. You have much to learn if you ever hope to be strong enough to go against the Emperor.”

Luke poked at Vader’s mind with the Force, much as his father had done to him earlier, seeking confirmation of his honesty. The Force sang with the truth and Luke nodded slowly.

“So I let you continue my training, not in the Dark Side but just general Force use and I assume lightsaber combat, and you get to claim me publicly as your son. In exchange I can contact Leia and tell her whatever I feel necessary and without you tracking the transmission, _before_ you say anything to the Galaxy?”

“Correct.”

Half of Luke’s mouth twisted up in a lopsided grin. “I think you are getting the better end of this deal.” He thought for a moment. “Help me rescue Han and I’ll agree.”

“Your smuggler friend?”

“Yes. It’s your fault he ended up in Jabba’s possession anyways. The least you can do is help me free him, since he was bait for me and now you have me.”

“That is not quite how that works, young one.”

Luke bristled at the belittling term, but he felt Vader’s amusement at his reaction and tried to repress his annoyance.

“But now it seems the deal has tipped in your favor. I did, after all, agree to postpone your turn to the Dark Side, so your training is more of a benefit to you than me.”

“But you know full well that I would refuse the deal entirely if you attempted to force me to turn,” Luke argued, mentally noting Vader’s use of the word _postpone_ as opposed to _forego_. He broadcast his displeasure of this over their bond to Vader.

He hummed, considering. Luke could feel him deliberating and then realizing that there was no way for him to alter the deal and still have Luke agree to it. “Very well. You have argued your point well. I accept.”

“Done.” He was quick to finalize the deal, relieved at the outcome of it.

Luke, still actively connected to Vader’s Force presence, was startled by the intensity of his father’s satisfaction. There was an undercurrent of pride, which Luke felt was directed at him.

He squeezed Luke’s shoulder in a gesture that, if it had been _anyone else_ , Luke would have labeled as affectionate.

“We have lingered here for far too long. Come.” He released Luke and turned to the door, crossing the room in long strides that had Luke practically running to keep up. Vader entered a code into the data panel next to the door and it slid open with barely a whisper. He stood to the side, silently ushering Luke through the door ahead of him.

It felt odd to step in front of Vader and turn his back to him, despite knowing that he would never hurt him. His non-Force instincts screamed at him to _never_ turn his back to the black-cloaked, masked Sith, but Luke managed to silence them after a brief internal struggle.

Vader stepped out into the corridor behind him and directed him with a gentle hand on the small of Luke’s back. He started at the contact but prevented himself from pulling away after his father showed no signs of removing his hand. He allowed himself to be guided from behind and realized that the gesture was as much for protection as it was for guidance. Tension and hyper-awareness radiated from his father and Luke had an image of Vader using the hand on his back to pull him close enough to shield him with his own, much larger body. It was oddly comforting, realizing the extent of Vader’s protectiveness.

And of course, the dark Force tendrils had not stopped coiling around him. Luke had simply tuned out his awareness of them to prevent it from distracting him. But as soon as he turned his attention to them, they were startlingly tangible in their presence. Luke found himself wondering what sensations Vader received from these extensions of his Force presence, but he was not brave enough to voice the question. Instead, he asked something else he had been wondering about to distract himself.

“Have you…” he searched for an accurate but neutral term, “spoken with Ozzel yet?”

Anger surged through the dark fire that was Darth Vader and the temperature of the corridor plummeted. A dark weight filled the corridor, pressing down on Luke’s mind and chest, giving the impression that it was difficult to breathe even though he was drawing in adequate amounts of air. The hand on Luke’s back slid sideways so the fingers wrapped lightly around the curve of his waist, subconsciously preparing to pull him closer to his father. Luke suppressed a smile as he realized his suspicions about the placement of the hand were not too far off the mark.

“I have not.” His father’s tone was clipped. “Retrieving you is second to nothing. I will deal with him once you are safely aboard the _Executor_. I will entrust you to Admiral Piett while I go back for the traitor. I do not trust anyone else to bring him on board either. I do not know how many troops are loyal to him.”

“His stormtroopers released me when the Captain ordered them to,” Luke offered. “Ultimately they were more loyal to him and to you than the Lieutenant-Commander.”

“Nonetheless. I will transport him myself.”

“Why not bring us both over now? Save yourself an extra shuttle trip?”

Vader’s stopped walking and his arm tightened around Luke’s waist, actually pulling him closer this time. Luke did not protest, even though the arm completely encircled his waist and he was now standing with his back pressed tightly against his father’s chest.

“I will not allow him within 50 meters of you,” Vader hissed, the Force boiling with his rage. The tendrils wrapped around Luke lashed out protectively, warding off imaginary attackers. Luke decided then to nickname them his “bodyguards,” since that was how they seemed to be acting.

Personally, Luke thought this was overkill. _It’s not like he will be able to hurt me if Vader is right there._ But he did not dare voice this opinion, not with Vader’s temper up as much as it was. He wasn’t worried about the Sith hurting him, but he did not relish hearing the anger-driven words that would leap from his sharp tongue.

“So you’ll leave me with your Admiral? What happened to me having free rein of the ship?” he teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. It worked marginally, as the oppressive heaviness of Vader’s rage lifted from the corridor. He relaxed his grip on Luke as well, allowing his son to move slightly to the side, and resumed their progress down the hallway. But the gentle pressure of the gloved hand never fully left Luke’s back and for some reason, he was glad.

“You will have free rein when I am also on board. When I am off-ship, I will either confine you to your chambers or entrust you to Admiral Piett.”

Though he chafed at the idea of having a babysitter, much less an Imperial one, he was intrigued.

“You trust this Admiral? Enough to leave me in his care?” Even if Vader wouldn’t say it out loud, Luke knew the reason for these precautions was not to prevent his escape but rather to ensure his safety. The concern and worry for him practically radiated from his father.

“Admiral Piett has proven himself worthy of my trust,” Vader admitted slowly. His emotions were suddenly tinged with respect and admiration for his officer and Luke was astonished. He found himself looking forward to meeting the man who could inspire respect from Darth Vader. There were very few people who could claim that honor, and even fewer that the Dark Lord would _admit_ to trusting.

“He is completely loyal to me above all else,” Vader added and Luke was unsure if it was a hint regarding their plans to overthrow the Emperor, or a warning that Piett would ultimately side with Vader against Luke if it ever came to it.

“Duly noted.”

The walk through the Star Destroyer to the hangar bay was a long one, but considering the size of the ship, it could have been a lot longer. Thinking about this, Luke remembered that his father’s flagship was a Super Star Destroyer and thus much larger than this one. At 19 kilometers long it was a veritable behemoth.

“How long would it take to walk from one end of the _Executor_ to the other?” Luke asked, just to fill the silence that was becoming slightly awkward.

Vader seemed to consider the question for a moment. “Several hours,” he finally replied. “Depending on how many officers decided to stop you for ridiculous reasons.”

Luke grinned at the sarcasm in his father’s voice. It seemed his rage abated as quickly as it came and the Sith also, inexplicably, had a sense of humor. A rather mean one, considering that most of his humor had been at someone else’s expense, but at least he was beginning to seem more human to Luke. And really, what did he expect? Vader was a Sith, after all.

~*~

The hangar bay they entered was the same one where Luke had first arrived on the Star Destroyer. His eyes picked out the exact shuttle he had been transported in and he was unable to still the shudder that ran through him at the memories.

“Are you alright?” Vader asked, probably feeling Luke tremble under the hand on his back.

Luke nodded, pushing away the residual fear. At the time, he had not been aware of how terrified he was and it was only now, looking back with a clear mind, that he realized.

“I’m just glad you got to me in time,” he said simply. Again Vader’s hand moved to pull Luke closer to him and Luke let him. This time, Vader pulled him closer to his side, rather than in front of him, close enough that Luke’s left arm pressed against Vader. Luke was surprised to realize that he felt oddly comfortable there.

 _A year ago, I would have died rather than let him touch me,_ he thought.

“What would you have done if I had died?” The question sprang unbidden to Luke’s lips and he voiced it before he could stop himself.

Vader came to a sudden standstill in the middle of the hangar, jerking Luke to a stop along with him. The hand at Luke’s hip clenched into a tight fist, digging painfully into his side. His “bodyguard” Force tendrils constricted so tightly around him that for a moment it was physically impossible to breathe. A brief picture flashed over their bond, and Luke flinched away from the trail of bodies Vader left behind him.

“I do not want to consider this,” Vader growled, his voice lower than Luke had ever heard it. “You did not die, you _will not_ die.”

Another picture reached Luke’s mind, this time of a young woman lying on the ground, long brunette braid tossed out behind her, smoke filling the air, an angry voice screaming “You will not take her from me!,” the hot pain of betrayal surging – 

Luke was yanked from the memory, for that was what it was, he realized, forcefully enough that he physically stumbled forward. Only Vader’s arm firm around his waist prevented him from falling to his knees on the hangar bay floor.

“What was that?” he gasped, finding it difficult to breathe.

“You should not have seen that.” The anger in his voice was not directed at Luke. It was directed at… himself? It was hard to read and Vader closed his mind off from Luke before he could pinpoint it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”

“I know you did not, son.” Though he did not lower his mental shields, he sent Luke a sigh through their link.

 _His vocoder probably doesn’t know how to interpret that sound,_ Luke guessed.

“Your presence is stirring up old memories best left forgotten.” And even though he could not feel it, he could hear his father’s pain in his voice.

“Do you want to forget her?” Luke asked quietly.

“What?”

“That was my mother, right?” It had to be, for what other young woman would Luke’s presence stir up memories of?

“It was,” Vader replied, his voice heavy with resignation.

Luke was burning with curiosity, but could sense his father’s extreme reluctance to speak about this. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing his curiosity at the same time. He would wait.

“Let’s return to the _Executor_ , Father.”

Gratitude washed over him from their link and Vader eased his grip on Luke’s waist.

“I didn’t know a Sith could be grateful,” Luke murmured.

It took Vader so long to answer that Luke thought he wasn’t going to. His mind was also completely closed off, so Luke had no idea what he was thinking. But he finally spoke.

“I am not just a Sith anymore,” he admitted. “I am also your father. You would not care to be in my company if I responded to you as a Sith would.”

Luke glanced up at his father’s mask. Although he could not see his face, it was turned just slightly away from him. Embarrassed, then. Luke was pleased, and slightly surprised, to see how quickly he was learning to read his father’s moods based on the set of his helmet.

Vader tugged at him and continued striding towards his Lambda class shuttle as though nothing had happened. Luke pushed down his rising trepidation, fighting against years of instinct cultivated during his time in the Rebellion that screamed at him to not allow himself to be brought on board an Imperial shuttle. They had always been harbingers of pain and death. But now he knew he would have to get used to them. Especially this one, with the insignia of the 501st emblazoned on its fins. Vader’s personal shuttle.

“You are nervous.” It wasn’t a question. At this point Luke wasn’t sure if he had given up trying to shield or if he was just abysmally bad at it.

He released a shaky breath and forced himself to smile. “Old habits.”

Vader turned his head to glance at Luke for a moment but didn’t comment. He ushered him up the boarding ramp ahead of him and a dim light flickered on in the passenger compartment when they entered. Luke’s eyes swept the space, taking in the rows of seats lining the walls, small hatches that probably led to storage compartments, a closed doorway to what he knew from schematics was an officer’s cabin, and finally settled on the door to the cockpit. He glanced up at Vader questioningly.

“You may copilot.”

A grin broke out across his face.

_“Indeed, you are my son.”_

~*~

Princess Leia met Mon Mothma’s eyes steadily across the table. It had not been easy to explain why she had returned without the hero of the Rebellion. She was acutely aware that this was the second time she had been present when the Empire had gotten their hands on an important member of the Alliance and if her dedication was not indisputable, her loyalty might have been called into question. Not that it was the _Empire_ who had Han, but Empire’s main enforcer was the one responsible for his loss.

“He assured you that Vader would not hurt him?” Mothma questioned, confusion clear in her voice and on her face. “Wasn’t it Vader he lost his hand to on Bespin?”

“We assumed so, and the injury _was_ consistent with what you would expect from a lightsaber, but you should remember that Luke never actually told any of us exactly what happened between the two of them that day.” Leia turned her eyes on General Rieekan as he spoke.

“And just what are you implying?” she demanded.

He held his hands up to ward off her anger. “Nothing at all, Princess. I’m just saying that we don’t actually know that it was Vader who injured him.”

“It was Vader. Who else would it have been? Yes, he has refused to explain what happened, but can you blame him? It was obviously traumatic. You didn’t see him right after we rescued him. He was in shock and he kept muttering Vader’s name. Now every time that monster is mentioned, he goes white as a ghost. You’ve _all_ seen that.”

“If he is so scared of him, then why did he insist that Vader would not hurt him?” asked General Draven. Leia gaped. He had never before doubted Luke’s loyalty, and she was annoyed that Rieekan’s paranoia was spreading. Luke deserved better from these people.

“Perhaps,” Mon Mothma interjected softly, “he was merely trying to convince you to leave.”

Leia paled. “He… seemed sincere. He’s a terrible liar.”

“Regardless of what happened on Bespin, it remains that Luke is in the Empire’s hands now, if not yet in Vader’s. We need to decide what to do,” Admiral Ackbar spoke up for the first time this meeting.

“We need to rescue him!” Leia said forcefully, but knowing her efforts would be useless.

“Leia, as important as Luke is to us, attempting to free him from Darth Vader would be a fool’s errand. With as large of a bounty as Vader has on him, you can bet that he will be heavily guarded. We are not equipped for something like that.” Mothma smiled sadly at Leia. “There’s nothing we can do. Luke’s gone.”

“You act like he’s already dead,” the Princess hissed. She stood abruptly, her chair rocking back on two legs before crashing to the floor. “I refuse to accept that.”

She could not handle their pitying stares, their sympathetic smiles, their poisonous words. She turned on her heel and stalked from the room, briefly, pointlessly annoyed that the door made no sound as it closed behind her.


	6. Return to the Executor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader have a conversation about what happened on Vrogas Vas, make it to the _Executor_ , and meet Admiral Piett. And Luke learns some interesting things about the Emperor's plans for him.

It was only once they entered the shuttle’s cockpit that Vader completely released his hold on Luke. As the physical connection broke, Luke felt a slight pang of loss that he struggled to understand.

_This is ridiculous. Less than a year ago I would have sworn to kill him if he had tried to touch me, let alone practically hug me._

He trailed after his father towards the control panel and settled into the copilot’s seat. It came as no surprise to him that Vader was piloting his own shuttle. He knew his love of flying came from his father and from what he had said, Luke doubted he would have entrusted the safety of their flight to anyone but himself.

Luke watched quietly as Vader ran the startup sequence. He had never been in the cockpit of one of these shuttles before and though most ships shared controls in common, there were always subtleties to each model. This Lambda class seemed to be fairly straightforward. And it appeared that despite Vader’s words, he did not need Luke to co-pilot.

“Will you ever let me fly?” Luke asked, suddenly worried that Vader’s overprotective streak would prevent him from allowing him into the pilot seat of any aircraft. Vader’s gloved hands paused on the controls and he turned to look at Luke.

“It would be foolish to try to ground a Skywalker,” he said, after a long pause. He directed his attention back to the controls and with the light shudder of the engines engaging, the shuttle lifted from the hangar floor. “I have seen you fly. You know how to handle a ship. You managed to out-maneuver me in the Death Star trench. Though your decisions above Vrogas Vas left much to be desired.” His voice was dry and Luke felt a light admonishing tap on his mind through the link.

He smiled sheepishly. “Heh. Sorry about that. But you had just destroyed two entire squadrons on your own! We couldn’t shoot you down, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

The shuttle glided smoothly out of the hangar bay and out into open space. The _Executor_ was not in sight. The two ships’ orbits must have had them on opposite sides of Tatooine. Luke purposely avoided looking down at his home planet.

“Fewer people would have died if you had allowed me to capture you then. You know I was only there for you.”

“I may know that _now_ but I certainly didn’t then.” Guilt crashed over Luke in waves and he lowered his head under the weight of all the deaths above and on Vrogas Vas. “I would not have known to surrender. Not that I would have anyways.”

Amusement colored Vader’s voice as he spoke. “We both know you would have, given the choice between your surrender and the lives of your squad mates. But I would not have made that offer. Your squad was the only one remaining. It would have been simple to take them out and leave your ship the only one intact. Since you at least knew I was hunting you by that point, you are smart enough that you would have figured out I had identified you and what I wanted.”

“If I thought I had nothing to lose when my squad mates were still alive, what makes you think I would have capitulated after they were dead? I still would have tried to take you out. I have close friends in my squad!” A pang went through his heart at the thought of losing Wedge to his father’s laser fire. It was always a possibility. Being shot down was an extremely common occupational hazard of being a fighter pilot and every time they went up, they knew not everyone would come back. But to have one particular instance and know how close it had been…

“You would not have succeeded. I would not have allowed you to engage my ship.” Vader’s voice cut through his sobering thoughts. He shook off the pain of Wedge’s hypothetical death and refocused on their conversation.

“Alright. Say I was unsuccessful in taking down your ship. How would you have taken me in? All you had was your TIE fighter.” Luke’s voice was heavy with skepticism.

“I believe you met Doctor Aphra planet-side?”

“The lady with the homicidal droids? Yeah. Those aren’t fond memories for me.” He crossed his arms defensively.

“She was waiting for my signal to move in and her ship was equipped to dock an X-Wing.”

Luke glowered at him. “You had this all planned out, didn’t you?”

“I was obviously aware of your presence on Vrogas Vas, but I did not know you were running formations until I arrived. I had planned on capturing you on the ground.”

“You were going to storm the base on your own?” His voice was drenched in disbelief.

“Luke, I essentially _did_ storm the base on my own. You saw how well your Rebel troops were able to fight me.”

“Did you have to kill them all?” Luke still felt sick, knowing those deaths were on his head, even indirectly. And now he was allied with the man who had killed them all to get to him.

“You know the answer to that.”

Luke didn’t reply, choosing instead to stare out through the transparisteel into space, and he finally turned his gaze to Tatooine, watching it wheel beneath them. How long had it been since he had last set foot on that forsaken planet?

“I did not plan on killing them,” Vader said softly. “I planned on ransoming the base’s safety in exchange for you.”

Luke made a startled noise in the back of his throat.

“They would have handed you over. All those lives held against yours? No matter how important you are to your Rebel High Command, it would have been a tactically good decision and they would have made it.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, drawing one leg up and cradling it against his chest. His father was right, of course. In fact, he himself probably would have agreed to those terms even if High Command hadn’t. All those lives…

“You cannot change the past, Luke. And you would do well to accept this. Your place in this Galaxy is such that many people will die for you, willingly or not, and if you allow the guilt of that to weigh on you, it will destroy you.”

_Die for me, huh? How many people have died **because** of me?_

The abruptly silenced screams of the millions on board the Death Star again filled his mind. The smoldering bodies of his aunt and uncle, Obi-Wan struck down by Vader’s blood-red blade, Biggs’s ship disintegrating from Vader’s laser fire, Han’s pain on Bespin…

“I lost my childhood best friend in the Battle of Yavin,” he said quietly. “You hit his ship as he covered my attack run.”

Vader was silent for a long moment. Luke did not really expect a reply. What do you say to something like that?

“I am sorry, son.” There was genuine remorse transmitting across their bond and Luke looked at Vader in surprise.

“You really regret that.”

“I do not regret the death of a Rebel. I regret causing you pain.”

“Well, that’s something at least.” Luke had mourned Biggs in his own time and the pain of his death had dulled to a slight ache that only flared when the memories resurfaced. Loss was an unfortunate but inescapable part of war, something Luke had learned early on.

The _Executor_ came into view as they rounded the curve of the planet, all 19 kilometers of gray durasteel and transparisteel. Luke gasped at the size of it. He knew the dimensions of the ship, but even knowing the numbers could not prepare him for the sight of it. He leaned forward, caught up in the majestic sleekness of it. There was something attractive about this design that was missing from the Imperial-class Star Destroyers.

“This is the first of the new Executor-class command ships, named after this one, of course.”

“She’s huge!”

“That’s putting it mildly, young one.”

It was becoming harder to see the shape of the ship as they drew closer and soon nearly the entire viewport was eclipsed by it. Vader pressed several buttons, transmitting a clearance code, Luke guessed when they were hailed.

“Welcome back, Lord Vader. I trust you were successful?”

“Indeed, Admiral.”

Luke perked up in interest. This was his father’s Admiral, the one he trusted.

“Very good, my Lord.” Luke could hear clear relief in the man’s tone. He had obviously not been looking forward to dealing with Vader if he had been _unsuccessful_. “Your hangar is prepared for your approach.”

The transmission cut out and Vader steered the shuttle along the length of the _Executor_ until a small hangar bay came into sight. He expertly guided them into the hangar, setting their ship down gently next to a TIE Advanced. There were no other ships in the hangar and Luke realized it must be Vader’s personal one.

The engines slowed to a stop and Vader turned to face Luke.

“I will escort you to the bridge, where I will leave you in Admiral Piett’s care, as I previously mentioned. It should not take me long to retrieve Ozzel and return with him.”

“When will you… deal with him?” Luke asked, unsure if he really wanted to know.

“Not right away. My first priority is making sure you settle in here. I will ‘deal with him,’ as you put it, once I am satisfied that you are… comfortable here.”

“You mean you are going to hover until I tell you that I’m fine and you can leave me alone for more than five minutes?” Luke grinned. Overprotective father, indeed. Luke felt another admonishing tap through the link and his grin widened when he realized his father had no reply. He had effectively rendered the Sith Lord speechless. He was moderately proud of himself.

Vader stood and exited the cockpit. Luke followed him out and watched as the boarding ramp lowered without anyone touching the controls.

“How would you function without the Force?” Luke asked playfully. “I feel like you would walk into at least three doors a day because you would forget that you couldn’t just tell them to open with your mind.”

He felt Vader’s glare despite the mask. “I am not going to dignify that with a response, young one.” He swept down the ramp of the shuttle ahead of him and Luke fell into step behind him. He suppressed a laugh when he saw that Vader had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the overhang. Luke certainly hadn’t inherited his height from his father. His mother must have been short.

As soon as they were both on the hangar floor, Vader stepped slightly to the side and hung back, waiting for Luke to even with him. Then his hand returned to Luke’s back, guiding him at his side once more.

There was no welcoming committee for them, a fact that Luke was happy about. The thought of being greeted by a platoon of stormtroopers was less than appealing. He wanted to delay being seen at Vader’s side for as long as possible, even if he knew it was inevitable. How long would it take for the news of him to spread through the Imperial ranks? A sudden thought chilled him. How long would it take for the _Emperor_ to hear of this? He opened his mind to Vader, drawing his attention with the sudden brightening of the connection. He spoke before Vader could ask what he wanted.

_“How long do we have before the Emperor finds out?”_

Vader did not miss a step, but continued walking as though they were not having a conversation. _“He probably already knows. He has spies everywhere, even on my ship, and very little happens in the Galaxy without him knowing, especially where I am concerned.”_

 _“He doesn’t trust you?”_ Luke sent his confusion across the bond.

_“He trusts no one, but especially not me. It is the way of the Sith for the apprentice to eventually kill the master. As soon as he discovered your existence, he became worried.”_

_“What do I have to do with it?”_

_“He believes, rightly, that I want to take you on as my apprentice. But the Rule of Two states that there can only be two Sith at any time, a master and an apprentice. If I take you, I need to kill him.”_

Luke shuddered at the barbaric notion. _“Is that why you are ‘postponing’ my turn to the Dark Side? Because the Emperor still lives? And here I thought you were actually honoring my wishes.”_ Though his words were harsh and his question serious, he sent a tiny burst of humor along with them. He did not want his father to think he was accusing him.

_“I want you by my side. I am willing to compromise with you to get you. But I am hoping that once the Emperor is dead, you will join my side.”_

_“What will you do if I don’t?”_

They had reached the turbolift at the far end of the hangar and, as with the boarding ramp on the shuttle, the door slid open with only a thought from Vader. His father ushered him inside ahead of him. He did not respond to Luke’s question until the doors had slid closed and the turbolift was moving upwards.

“I believe you will turn.” He spoke out loud for the first time during the conversation. Luke gave him a skeptical glare.

“Well, you should have a backup plan for when I don’t.”

“We will talk about this later.”

“Are you actually keeping track of all the topics of conversation you say we will ‘talk about later,’ or are you just hoping I will forget about them?”

“I am hoping that by the time I need to bring them up again, you will have come to my side and a discussion will no longer be necessary.” There was amusement in his voice despite the seriousness of the conversation and Luke knew he was not going to get a straight answer on the subject.

“Fine. But if the Emperor already knows that you have me, won’t he come after us?” Luke brought the conversation back on track.

“No. He enjoys his little games too much. He will wait to see what we do, wait to see if we challenge him. If we do not openly move against him, he will then try to sway you to his side, first attempting to lure you before taking you by force.”

“Why does he want me?” Luke interrupted quietly. He obviously understood why Vader wanted him. But he had never known the exact reason why the Emperor himself had been chasing him. He had always assumed it had more to do with killing him than with training him, especially if there could only be two Sith at a time. Now his father’s comment about the Emperor forcing Luke to kill him made more sense.

Vader turned to look at him. “You have the potential to become much more powerful than me.” Luke stared at him in shock. “Sith crave power above all else. He wants you for yours. And if he cannot have you, he will destroy you so no one else can either.”

“I will become… more powerful… than you?” That was a foreign concept, and not one Luke was comfortable thinking about. Darth Vader had always seemed like an insurmountable force of nature, invincible in battle. Even when Luke had rushed to face him on Cymoon-1 and Bespin, he had not really expected to win. Hoped, but never believed. The thought that he might become stronger than his father…

“The Emperor has foreseen it.”

“I don’t… how…” He raised a hand to his head and squeezed his eyes shut, only for them to snap open again when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Your potential shines brightly in the Force. I felt it in the Death Star trench, I felt it above Hoth and the moment you entered Bespin’s system. You are very powerful, my son. If you were fully trained, you would be more powerful than the Emperor himself.” Luke knew Vader had meant to be reassuring, but his words did not help him.

“But if I will become more powerful than the Emperor, why would he want to train me? Won’t that make me a threat to him?”

“You are already a threat to him. But if he trains you, he will own your power for a time rather than you using it against him. Until you turn on him, as all Sith eventually do.”

“And if his attempts to lure me do not work? He will kill me?”

“No. He will rip you from me against your will.” Vader’s voice was impassive, his thoughts and emotions hidden behind a wall of durasteel. “Manipulate you, torture you, play on your anger and your fear until all you have left is your hatred. Of him, of life, of yourself. Create the perfect Sith.”

Luke felt numb, fear coursing through his veins like blood. He would not let that happen. He would die before he let the Emperor twist him. And perhaps even his father could not argue that that would be a fate worse than death for him. But he was acutely aware of how emotionless Vader was trying to be. Trying to hide his feelings towards this, or something else?

“Is that what he did to you?” Luke asked, his voice small and barely carrying past his lips. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to hear what had been done to his father to turn Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader. But he had to know.

It was an eternity until Vader spoke again.

“Essentially.”

Luke waited to see if his father would say more, but he was icily silent. He could almost feel the temperature in the turbolift creep down as Vader’s emotions surged. They were entirely hidden from Luke, but the only time the physical world reacted like this was in response to his father’s strong negative emotions. Since he could not currently read him and he did not want to risk aggravating him further, he remained silent.

The turbolift stopped moving and the door slid open. Luke startled at the unexpected movement. He had been so focused on his father’s words and feelings that he had forgotten where they were, that there was more to the world than the small elevator box.

Without waiting for him, Vader swept past him out of the turbolift, the edge of his cape snapping against Luke’s leg. Luke rushed to follow him out, not wanting to get left behind on this behemoth of a starship. Vader’s strides were long, too long for Luke to comfortably keep up with and every few steps he had to jog to catch up. The corridor they had entered was blessedly empty, though as Luke stretched out into the Force, he could feel a myriad of presences around and ahead of them. The bridge? Vader had said he was leaving him in the care of the Admiral. Where else would he be heading?

Several yards down the corridor, Vader finally slowed his steps. Luke cautiously hovered a step back from his usual place at his father’s right side and slightly behind him, still unsure how to react to him when he could not read his emotions. It was unsettling, feeling a blank wall where Vader’s cold fire usually burned in the back corner of his mind. He realized that this must be how every Imperial who worked with Vader usually felt around him, with the added fear of being killed for the slightest mistake. At least Luke was sure he would not be hurt, no matter his father’s mood.

Vader continued traveling down the corridor at his slower pace for a few more moments without acknowledging Luke. Then he stopped and Luke almost crashed into him with the abruptness of the motion.

“Ah!” He twisted to the side just enough to avoid running into Vader’s back. Vader grabbed his arm, a little more roughly than he had yet handled him, and pulled him next to him. His shoulder twinged as it was jostled.

“Stay by my side until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was the first time Luke had addressed him as such, but the authority in Vader’s voice and his harsh demeanor startled it out of him. Vader’s hand around his upper arm went slack and everything about him stilled.

 _Curiosity._ Vader opened his mind just enough to let Luke feel it.

“I…” Luke trailed off. “I don’t know.” He turned his head away, uncomfortable with the feeling of Vader’s intense gaze on his face. He felt blood rise to his cheeks and was glad he was no longer looking at his father.

“Why did you close yourself off?” he dared to ask, hoping it wouldn’t ignite his anger again.

“I was reminded of memories that I have no desire for you to see.”

“You’re not angry at me?”

“Luke.” He reflexively looked up at his name and in response to the tightening of the hand around his arm. “You will know when I am angry with you.”

 _That_ sounded ominous. But he supposed he would rather know in advance than be blindsided by the fallout of Vader’s rage. He nodded slowly, again facing away from Vader, then spoke before he lost his nerve.

“I don’t like not being able to sense you. It makes me…” he fumbled for the word. “Nervous” wasn’t it, neither was “uncomfortable.” He tightened his right hand into a fist at his side in frustration and embarrassment before sending a burst of raw emotion at his father, hoping he would be able to interpret it.

“There is a reason one of the worst punishments for a Force-sensitive is depriving them of the ability to touch the Force,” Vader said after a moment.

“You can do that?!” Luke looked up in shock.

“There are… several ways of accomplishing it, yes. Some more effective than others, and some decidedly unpleasant.”

“I’ve been unable to use it temporarily for one reason or another, too distracted to maintain control, but I’ve never been entirely cut off from it.” Luke was disturbed by the thought. Even before he had known what it was, he had depended on it for his insight and his reflexes. It was as much a part of him as his own blood, necessary as oxygen.

“Depending on the method used, it can be similar to when you encounter someone else’s shields, but around your own mind, keeping you in rather than out. That is the simplest form of it and can be achieved by any Force user powerful enough. Some drugs can block midichlorians, temporarily rendering a person insensitive to the Force, and there are lizards that create a Force deadzone around them. Regardless of how it is achieved and what form it takes, it creates a sense of unease similar to what you felt when I closed my mind to you, but on a much larger scale. Prolonged loss of contact to the Force for a powerful user can drive them mad.”

At Luke’s horrified look, Vader continued, his voice somehow taking on a reassuring tone. “It would take months and I have never seen it happen.”

A morbid curiosity prompted Luke to ask, “You said a powerful enough Force user can cut off another’s ability to touch the Force. Can you do it?”

Vader hesitated and Luke could feel his indecision. “I can,” came the slow admission. “I have only done it twice. It is not something that even I am comfortable with doing.”

“I suppose the Emperor has no such qualms,” Luke muttered.

“He does not. But it takes a lot of focus to do something like this, even for one as powerful as him. You can best fight it by breaking his concentration in whatever way you can.” There was a note of warning in Vader’s voice and Luke nodded slowly. This was advice he would do well to remember.

The heaviness that Luke had not really noticed gathering in the corridor lifted suddenly and it was only its abrupt absence that told him it had been there at all.

“Come. Admiral Piett is growing anxious.”

Vader released Luke’s arm and moved his hand to its customary place on Luke’s back, pushing him forward gently. Though Vader was not entirely closed off to him anymore, the memory of his blankness in the Force was vivid enough that he was glad for the added physical reminder of his presence.

 _Since when have I become so dependent on Vader?_ Luke wondered, apprehension coiling in his stomach at the implications. Perhaps it was simply the fulfilled childhood longing for his absent father, but he feared it was something more, something darker. Some side effect of their alliance and his Force vow and agreement to allow Vader to train him. He had felt a fledgling bond with Obi-Wan spark to life when he had told him he wanted to “learn the ways of the Force” and then snap when his former master had been killed. Not that he had understood what it was until a connection had formed with and been explained by Yoda on Dagobah. A bond between master and apprentice. Nowhere near as strong or intimate as the familial bond he shared with Vader, but significant nonetheless.

Could he share a training bond with more than one master at a time? Luke tugged at the thin thread that connected him to Yoda and was not surprised when nothing happened. The only person he had been able to consistently feel from more than a planet or two away was Vader. A result of being tied by blood? Certainly, the main reason he had known Vader had told him the truth on Bespin had been the sudden flare of their connection into existence.

Luke carefully guarded these thoughts, making sure his shields were as strong as they had ever been. He felt Vader’s mental attention bend towards him, presumably as he noticed the strengthening of his shields. But he did not push at them, much to Luke’s relief. These were not worries he wanted to share with the Sith Lord.

The corridor ended and spilled into a larger one. This one was swarming with stormtroopers and officers and Luke tensed as he felt their eyes flicker to them and then away, the Force flaring with the collective curiosity of dozens of Imperials.

_I’m walking next to Vader, unbound. I’m obviously not a prisoner. But what other reason would there be for him to escort a Rebel though the ship? I can understand their confusion._

_“You do not look like a Rebel, Luke.”_ Vader sent him a flash of humor as Luke looked down and caught a glimpse of his Imperial uniform.

_“How did you…?”_

_“You must have been subconsciously seeking an answer because you opened that thought up to me. Whatever you were guarding earlier is still safe from me.”_

Luke did not comment, though he heard the curiosity and slight parental disapproval at his secrets. Vader had no right to use that against him. He had not yet earned the right to act like his parent.

_“That uniform looks good on you, by the way.”_

Luke stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and Vader’s hand pressed against his back caught him and pulled him forward a stumbling step before Vader stopped walking as well.

“What did you say?” Luke was denying that he had heard what he thought he had heard.

 _“You are making a scene,”_ Vader reprimanded, his mental voice whipping through Luke’s mind. He winced at the way it stung, not quite painful but sharp nonetheless. He reluctantly began walking again, if only to try to escape the now open stares of the Imperials.

 _“Why?”_ Luke demanded, now immensely uncomfortable. He had never hated the Imperial uniform more.

 _“I did not think you would react this strongly,”_ Vader said, his disappointment burning through their link.

 _“That doesn’t answer my question,”_ he sulked. He knew he was not likely to get an answer and so was not surprised when his father remained silent. He was getting used to his father’s annoying habit of avoiding, or even outright ignoring, topics he did not want to discuss.

 _“That’s not how you build healthy relationships,”_ he chided his father.

 _“You do not get to lecture me, young one.”_ Luke could feel a bit of uncertainty behind Vader’s reproach and realized that he had hit a nerve. He was torn between being proud of this and worrying about the consequences of stirring Vader’s volatile anger. He decided not to push his luck and fell silent.

 _That uniform looks good on you._ Luke tried to push away the memory but was not entirely successful. Was Vader genuinely trying to compliment him, in fatherly pride? Or was he making a political statement, hoping to pull Luke to his side of the war? He knew he would be forced to wear some form of Imperial uniform from here out and he already missed his Rebel fatigues. Even with the jacket fastened loosely, the uniform was constricting and uncomfortable and it chafed at his injured shoulder.

The hallway was becoming more crowded the farther they went. It wasn’t congested by any means but people occasionally had to sidestep to avoid running into each other. Luke was glad he was with Vader, as everyone gave them a wide berth, allowing their movements to go unimpeded. The sooner they got to their destination, the better. At this point, he was looking forward to a break from Vader’s hovering.

The corridor ended in a set of double blast doors that slid open with a hiss at their approach. The bridge. Luke sucked in a breath at the sight of space through the transparisteel viewports interspersed along the arching outside wall of the bridge. The trenches to either side of the main walkway were lined with computer terminals and navigating equipment, which were manned by officers of varying ranks. The walkway itself split, curving around the outer edges of the trenches with the main part continuing straight ahead, reconnecting with the other two in a small platform that offered a spectacular view of space. He itched to rush forward and stand there, staring out into the space above Tatooine. Space he had always seen from his planet-side vantage point and inspired dreams of flying amongst these stars. The first time he had been in this part of space, they had been too busy trying to outrun the Imperial blockade to really appreciate the view from space itself, and the last time he had been too preoccupied with Obi-Wan’s journal to pay much attention.

As if sensing his desires, Vader moved his hand from Luke’s back and placed it on his shoulder, effectively keeping Luke at his side. Luke noted that although the fingers were placed exactly over the bruise, they were resting so lightly that it did not hurt. But he knew it wouldn’t take much pressure at all from Vader to cause a lot of pain.

_It’s my physical weak spot. Locating and exploiting weak points is one of the first things you learn in combat training. And torture, probably._

He suppressed his grimace at that last thought, knowing all too well that Vader was familiar with the technique for both reasons.

Many eyes turned towards them at their entrance and Luke felt the inexplicable urge to shrink closer to Vader in an attempt to hide from them. One of the officers who looked up came forward and Luke saw from his rank bar that he was an admiral. _The_ Admiral.

“Welcome back, Lord Vader,” he greeted him, lowering his head in a small bow. He kept his face turned towards Vader but Luke saw and felt his eyes flicker in his direction several times. The glances lasted only milliseconds, but they were enough to convey his extreme curiosity and Luke had to wonder how much the Admiral knew.

“Admiral,” Vader returned the greeting and Luke knew that to anyone else, it would appear cold and almost disrespectful. But there was a subtle undercurrent of regard in his voice that Luke could hear even without the added help of the Force. Piett’s demeanor led Luke to believe that he could hear it too.

A subtle push on his shoulder made Luke take a step forward and Admiral Piett finally turned his full attention to him.

“This is…” he trailed off, waiting for a name.

“Commander Luke Skywalker,” he supplied, before Vader could speak. He considered adding on his customary “Rebel Alliance,” but decided it was best not to push his luck this early on. The memory of the medics’ reactions back on the _Subjugator_ was still fresh in his mind, even though Piett was sure to know who he was. Besides, could he, in good faith, lay claim to that affiliation when he was acting as Vader’s loyal lapdog? He still considered himself Alliance, but he would need to renounce them in the eyes of the Galaxy soon enough, so he might as well start now.

“Welcome aboard, Commander Skywalker.” His voice was pleasant but neutral and betrayed nothing of his true feelings towards Luke, or even recognition. His sabacc face was phenomenal. Luke suddenly realized that the Admiral’s mind was closely guarded and while he could sense his presence, he could feel nothing of his emotions. He poked Vader’s mind questioningly.

_“I trained him. Even non-Force-sensitives can learn to guard their minds.”_

_“You trained him?”_

_“As I said, he is loyal to me. And while there is no way for a non-Force user to hold up against a mental attack from a powerful user, there is no reason to make it easier for the Emperor.”_

Ah, so Piett _was_ in on Vader’s plans, or soon would be.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Luke responded as though his short conversation with Vader had not happened. He would correct the man’s form of address later, when his father wasn’t hovering. He somehow knew that he would not approve of him insisting that the officers refer to him as simply “Luke.”

“I am entrusting him to your care, Admiral. Do not let him out of your sight until I return.”

Luke shot his father a glare, radiating severe displeasure at being treated like a child prone to wandering off.

_“You **are** a child, young one.”_

_“I am 23 years old! I am not a child.”_

_“You are my child, and I will take no chances with your safety.”_

Luke huffed and looked back at the Admiral. He was staring at them with an expression bordering on interest. His eyes flickered back and forth between father and son and Luke was hit with the realization that he suspected some communication had passed between them. Observant, for an Imp.

“I will make sure he remains safe, my Lord.” His response was slow in coming, his confusion getting the better of him. Luke was glad that Vader decided not to comment. He suspected that if it had been any other officer, their hesitation and curiosity would have been dealt with harshly. Although the Admiral’s shields made him uneasy, he found himself unexpectedly liking the guy.

_“How much does he know?”_

_“He knows nothing, yet. Only that you are an important Imperial asset. This will be remedied after I return.”_ A warning, then, not to say anything. Luke sent his understanding and Vader turned to leave. Vader’s hand patted his shoulder once in farewell and he saw the Admiral’s eyes dart over to stare at the hand and then jump to his face, his shock finally cracking his mental defenses. Luke was hit with a barrage of the Admiral’s emotions for a breathless second before the man managed to lock them back down. Vader’s steps faltered for a moment, presumably as he felt the slip, but then he continued walking away as though nothing had happened.

 _Important Imperial asset, huh? Probably figures I’m one of his agents, like the medics and captain did._ Luke studied Piett’s face, trying, and failing, to get a read on him. His thoughts were once again sealed behind airtight shields. Vader had trained him well. The Admiral was probably better at shielding than Luke himself was. Not that that was a particularly impressive feat. But still.

He would have to get information the old-fashioned way.


	7. Admiral Piett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Piett talk, and their conversation gets close to some dangerous territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I'm _so_ sorry this took so long! Work has been killing me, and I pretty much just want to go to bed as soon as I get home. Plus I've had writer's block on top of it all. This chapter _was_ going to be longer, but I wanted to get _something_ up, so I moved the next scene to the beginning of the next chapter. I might move it back once I have it finished, depending on where it fits best....
> 
> So I finally fixed an issue that's been bugging me since I first started writing this story - the issue of Luke's bounty. I went back and edited some dialogue in the previous chapters, but most of the changes were made to this chapter. If you are so inclined, I encourage you to go back and reread to find the changes, but if you don't want to (understandably, that's a lot of reading for a few small changes) I will sum them up for you here. Luke has two bounties on his head - an official, unnamed one for "the pilot who destroyed the Death Star." This one is significantly smaller. The other one is Vader's personal bounty out for "Luke Skywalker." This is the big one. L-C Ozzel _did_ recognize Luke because he was keeping tabs on all things Vader, looking for a revenge opportunity. But not everyone pays attention to personal bounties set by Imperials, although any higher ranking Imps _do_ pay attention to Vader's alive-only bounties so they don't accidentally kill one of them. :/

Neither Luke nor Admiral Piett moved until the doors had slid shut behind Vader. The Admiral’s eyes had been tracking Vader’s movements, staring over Luke’s shoulder. Then Luke heard him let out a long, quiet breath, as though he had been holding it. Luke grinned.

“I guess he’s a bit intimidating, even to you.”

His gaze returned to Luke’s face, meeting his eyes.

“Especially to me. The higher up you are in Imperial hierarchy, the more likely you are to be executed by him.”

_Somehow, I doubt that is true in your case._

But he did not voice his thoughts, unsure if he wanted Admiral Piett to know just how much he knew about the man’s relationship with Vader. Instead he gave a noncommittal hum and their fledgling conversation lapsed into an awkward silence.

He could feel his father’s presence steadily moving away from him and he clamped down hard on the feeling of loss that was permeating his body. He did not want to feel this, did not want to be so attached to Vader. But he could not fully deny that he was, and he found reluctant comfort in the fact that the bodyguard Force tendrils did not release their hold on him. He wondered if they ever would, or if they were somehow a permanent part of him now.

“Commander Luke Skywalker.” The voice was contemplative and Luke returned his attention to the speaker. His eyes were traveling up and down Luke’s body, assessing him, but for once the action didn’t seem demeaning. “So he finally caught you. I must admit that I am impressed by how long you eluded him. What was it? Nearly five years?”

“Four,” Luke corrected, smiling slightly. He was rather proud of his evasiveness. Four years was a long time for someone with a two billion credit bounty on his head to avoid capture.

“For someone who has been running for so long, you don’t seem too terribly upset about being apprehended.” Despite being unable to read the Admiral’s emotions, the attempt to tease information out of him was blatantly obvious.

Luke shrugged, then hissed as a stab of pain went through his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” There was real concern in the Admiral’s voice, and Luke appreciated it, even if it was unnecessary.

He waved his right hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

 _“I just moved my shoulder. I’m fine,”_ he sent in response to his father’s worried inquiry. _“Stop monitoring me and pay attention to what you’re doing.”_ Feeling his father about to protest, he added, _“I will let you know if anything goes wrong.”_

“You’re more than just a pilot, aren’t you?” Piett asked, giving him the same appraising look he had given him the first time he had seen him communicate with Vader telepathically. “You would have to be, considering all the time and resources Lord Vader put into chasing you.”

 _“What happens if you are incapacitated and unable to tell me that something has ‘gone wrong’?”_ Vader’s reply came at the same moment and Luke felt his frustration building. He could not have two important conversations at the same time!

 _“Then the Admiral will contact you! Stop distracting me.”_ He severed his end of the contact and threw up his shields, ignoring his father’s attempts to breach them.

He sighed as he focused back on the Admiral.

“Yes. However I am not at liberty to discuss it.” He smiled wryly. “But I don’t believe we have been formally introduced. You know my name but I don’t know yours.” This was, obviously, not entirely true but he wanted to change the trajectory of the conversation.

“Ah. Sorry. Forgive my poor manners. Admiral Firmus Piett, commander of the _Executor_.”

“Nice to meet you. And I understand. It’s easy to get distracted when Vader is breathing down your neck.”

This prompted a small smile from Piett. “Indeed.”

“Admiral!” The call came from an officer leaning over one of the computer terminals. Piett turned towards him, acknowledging his summons.

“Excuse me, Commander Skywalker. Feel free to wander where you will, but do not leave the bridge.”

Luke nodded and the Admiral walked off to attend to his duties. A ship like this would be crazy enough to manage _without_ it being the flagship of the Death Squadron and Vader’s personal vessel. As it was, Luke did not envy Piett his job. But his thoughts did not linger long on the hardships of running a Super Star Destroyer. Now alone, he finally had the freedom to cross the room and stand by the viewports. He ignored the curious glances from the crew, much more open now that Vader was gone, and stared out at the sky, feeling a thrill course like electricity through his body. This was the sky he had gazed up at longingly for 19 years, dreaming of flying to the stars and seeing new worlds. And of course, as he had looked up at the distant planets, he had envisioned his pilot father returning from some grand adventure to claim him. He had imagined that his father was not really dead, that there had been some misunderstanding and he hadn’t known that he had a son or he would never have left him behind…

_That turned out to be true, but nothing like I had thought._

He placed his hands on the sill of the central viewport and leaned against it, turning his eyes to Tatooine. The orange planet rotated lazily and he searched its surface for any indication of what part they hovered over. This far up in space, he was unable to recognize anything. The desert planet was just that, and without large bodies of water to separate continents, there was no real way to tell what part of the planet he was looking at.

 _I haven’t set foot on my home planet since I was attacked by Boba Fett in Obi-Wan’s old hut,_ Luke recalled, wincing at the memory of the fight. _But Han is down there right now, in Jabba’s palace. I wonder if Lando is in place yet, or if Leia recalled him after I was captured._

He sighed and brought a hand up to his face. He was beginning to feel the stirrings of a headache. Lando had gone radio silent the closer he had gotten to Jabba, fearing discovery if he was in contact with them. Although he did have an emergency comlink, the plan was to dispose of it once he had been hired as a guard, under the assumption that if he got that far, they were going ahead. If he had successfully infiltrated, there was no way to tell him the plan was off. No one had considered that Luke might be captured by the Empire this late in the game.

 _I will have to convince Vader to help me rescue Han_ _**now**. At least we are already above Tatooine. Why make another trip if we are already here?_

He would need to coordinate with Leia when his father let him contact her, which he hoped would be soon. The deal was that he would be allowed to contact her before Vader said anything, and considering his impatience towards claiming him, it was unlikely that he would make him wait long. The bigger question was how the rescue mission would be altered now that Vader was involved. It would certainly have a higher chance of success with the Sith Lord’s power behind it, but the likelihood of violence also increased dramatically. Despite Luke’s hatred of the Hutt clan, he wanted the mission to go with as little bloodshed as possible.

Footsteps behind him pulled him out of his musings and half-formed adjustments to the rescue plan. He did not bother to turn, feeling the Admiral’s shielded presence approaching.

“Admiring the view?”

Luke nodded and glanced at the man as he joined him at the viewport, hands clasped behind his back. Piett gave him a small smile.

“Lord Vader did warn me that you might spend quite a bit of time here.”

“He talked about me with you?” Luke asked, surprised. He finally turned his head to look at the man beside him. He was shocked to realize that the Admiral was only an inch or so taller than him. He held himself with enough confidence that Luke hadn’t noticed until they were standing side by side.

“He did not say much. But when he told me that you would be in my care and, um…” he trailed off searching for a delicate way to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Custody?” Luke suggested, grinning at Piett’s discomfort. “I know he’s still scared that I’m going to try to run off.”

“You _have_ escaped him many times over the past four years.”

“Oh, I didn’t say it was unwarranted. But it’s unnecessary. I’m not going to leave this time.” He could hear the resignation in his own voice and returned his gaze to the viewport, staring unseeing at the stars. However unwise, he had made a vow and he would keep it. No matter the consequences.

“Ah, there’s the distress I was expecting. You did a good job of hiding it.”

“I’m not distressed, not about being here.” _Just about what being here might mean for my future and my friends._

The look that the Admiral gave him was full of skepticism, but he ignored it. Let him think what he wanted, at least for now.

“So what, exactly, did Vader say about me?” He returned the conversation back to safer grounds.

“Ah. He did not say who we were picking up and at first I assumed you were one of his agents pulled from deep cover. But the closer we got to Tatooine, the more… agitated, I suppose would be the best word, he became. I have only seen him act like that when a mission concerned you. So I began to suspect, and when he said he would leave me in charge of you, I asked him what to expect from you. I did not know if you would be a flight risk and wanted to be prepared. But he merely insinuated that you enjoy being able to see the stars. You’re a lot like him, in that regard. Lord Vader often stands in this exact spot.”

“Really?” Luke suppressed a smile. Though he supposed that shouldn’t surprise him. They had both started their lives trapped on Tatooine, and probably both spent many nights staring up at the sky longing for freedom. Even after four years of near constant space travel, his fascination with the stars had not abated. He did not know how long it had been since his father had been freed, but he doubted that the exhilaration had faded for him either.

His question had not really been meant to receive an answer, and Piett seemed to realize that. He finally looked out the viewport and his gaze fell on Tatooine. He seemed to study its orange surface for a long moment and a comfortable silence fell between them. Luke felt his father’s presence, still delicately connected to his own through their ever-present bond, glow with rage and decided that he must have reached the _Subjugator_ ’s detention center.

“I’ve never been to the surface of Tatooine,” Piett said conversationally.

“There’s not much to see.”

“You’ve been there?”

“It’s my home planet,” Luke responded without thinking.

“Is it?” Piett seemed surprised. “How did you end up _here_?”

“I wonder that myself, sometimes,” Luke admitted. “Fate, maybe?” As much as he did not like Vader throwing around phrases like “it’s your destiny,” he had to agree that it was more than pure luck, or misfortune, that had thrown him into this galactic conflict. If the _Tantive IV_ hadn’t been flying above Tatooine, if they had been on the other side of the planet, if the droids hadn’t met that particular group of Jawas, if Luke hadn’t suggested buying Artoo when the other droid broke down, if Obi-Wan hadn’t come along at _just the right moment_ to rescue him from the Tusken Raiders… not to mention all the twists and turns his life could have taken after leaving Tatooine. Change any tiny detail and he might never have learned who he really was.

The logical answer was, of course, the Force. It had indeed guided his footsteps, but to what end he was unsure. He still did not believe he belonged on the Dark Side, at his father’s side as a Sith, as Vader kept insisting. But he could not voice this answer, as the Admiral did not yet know that he was Force-sensitive. The real story of how he had come to stand on the _Executor_ ’s bridge as Darth Vader’s personal “guest” would have to wait until the Admiral had been told who he was. Until then, vague references to fate would have to suffice.

“You believe in fate, Commander?” Piett’s voice hummed with amusement.

Luke shrugged again, deliberately only moving his right shoulder this time. “Maybe not fate, exactly, but something,” he replied, careful to keep his response neutral. “There are too many variables in the universe, too many tiny choices that could change the entire trajectory of the future, to not believe that _something_ controls it.”

“Lord Vader believes the Force determines our paths,” Piett commented. His voice sounded casual, but Luke read the undercurrents of suspicion. The conversation was straying too close to the truth for comfort.

“I am aware of Vader’s beliefs.” Luke clipped his words, trying to sound annoyed and hoping to end this particular discussion. He knew it was his fault for bringing it up and used his frustration at himself to fuel the exasperated tone.

“You disagree with them?”

“Not as such,” he replied carefully. “But the particulars are something we continually debate.”

Piett gave him another appraising look and Luke studiously ignored it. If he figured something out, it would not matter much in the long run as Vader was planning on revealing everything to him soon enough. What he did _not_ want was the Admiral coming to false conclusions.

“If you’re wondering if I’m his apprentice, I’m not.” Luke quickly shut down that option, ignoring the flutter of guilt as he remembered that Vader _would_ be training him.

“I doubt you would disagree about the ‘particulars’ of the Force if you were.” Piett’s voice was amused and Luke glanced at him. The Admiral was still looking at him.

“Aren’t you worried about Vader being upset with you for asking too many questions?” Luke hinted. Piett chuckled.

“You have supplied far more answers than I ever asked for, Commander.”

Luke stiffened. _Blast it!_ The Admiral was clever, probably another reason his father respected him. But Luke knew he would only tolerate this level of persuasiveness and manipulation if it was coupled with extreme loyalty, as Piett’s was. He was suddenly horrified at the thought that maybe this entire conversation was a test. If it was, he had failed miserably.

“Did Vader put you up to this?” he growled. But his fears were immediately eased as Piett laughed in genuine amusement at his question.

“Hardly. His only orders concerning you were to keep you safe and within my sight.”

Even with his mind closely guarded, Luke could feel the honesty in his reply and he relaxed.

“Good.” Luke sighed.

_I suppose he knows better than to violate the fragile trust I’ve given him._

He ran his right hand through his hair again. It was becoming a nervous habit, and one he knew he would have to break if he were going to succeed in convincing people he had defected to the Empire. He could not display a nervous tick every time he had to lie to keep his cover. He dropped his hand quickly. Like everything else, it would be best if he started now.

He was beginning to empathize with the Rebellion’s deep cover spies. He did not know how they did this, pretending to be someone they weren’t, pretending to be on the opposite side, and he suddenly wished he had had some training in undercover work. But despite his abilities, there was a reason they had never sent him undercover: he was a terrible liar. That and Vader’s relentless search for him. They did not want to put him within the Dark Lord’s reach.

Instead, they had given him far more extensive training in resisting interrogation, apparently thinking that someone with as large of a bounty as him would inevitably be captured and interrogated. And considering that his bounty was alive only… it was a logical conclusion to draw. No one could have foreseen that Luke would become basically an undercover agent in the highest level of the Empire.

“You need to work on your sabacc face.” Piett’s voice broke through Luke’s melancholy thoughts.

Luke gave him a wry smile. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. Han would never let – ” he cut himself off.

_Han would never let me play when there was money on the table._

He may have been good at knowing when to draw or shift, thanks to subtle promptings from the Force, but his face had always given him away. It didn’t stop him from playing with the Rogues, and Luke was reminded that he owed a decent amount of credits to Wedge.

“Han?”

“A friend I… lost,” Luke replied shortly. It was easier to phrase it that way, saved him from the long explanation and it was true enough, even if the conclusion people would draw from that word was not the one he meant.

“I’m sorry.”

“He always played big. Won his ship in a game of sabacc. Also managed to lose a lot of credits and one time we contemplated turning me in for my bounty to replace them. He was going to break me out afterwards of course, but in the end we decided that was probably a bad idea.” Luke turned and grinned at Piett. The Admiral was staring at him, his eyes a little wider than usual.

Luke laughed. “We weren’t _seriously_ considering it. I just suggested it in a moment of desperation.”

“You suggested selling yourself for your own bounty?”

“Well, _Han_ wasn’t going to suggest it. And even back then, the price on my head was impressive. I think at the time it was 60,000 credits. Seems a bit small now, though, in comparison.” Although that bounty had been the official nameless one and Luke did not know if the price had increased on it since then or not. After Vader had posted the bounty for “Luke Skywalker,” he hadn’t paid any attention to the first one, hadn’t realized it still existed. He would have to ask.

“I can’t decide if you are joking or not.”

“Believe me, I’m not. I have wilder stories than this.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”


	8. Bravado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We return to Vader's POV as he heads back to the _Subjugator_ to retrieve Ozzel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _**so sorry**_ that this took so long! I hope to return to a more reasonable updating schedule now that summer is ending and I'm heading back to school. Work killed me this summer, and I got hit with a nasty bit of writer's block for the last few weeks. But fall semester promises to be a light one, so I should hopefully have a lot of time on my hands. :)

Vader’s shuttle touched down lightly in the hangar bay of the _Subjugator_ for the second time in the last hour, and he could not help the sense of déjà vu he felt as he glanced out the viewport and saw the same welcoming committee. The captain stood, hands behind his back, in front of the boarding ramp of Vader’s shuttle, and several rows of stormtroopers and officers formed an impromptu corridor. Vader stifled a sigh. This was highly unnecessary and he was glad he had done away with the practice on his own ships.

He finished powering down the shuttle and stood, moving back to the main compartment. He hesitated for a moment before lowering the ramp, poking gently at the bond again. He felt a slight pang of disappointment when he discovered that the barrier was still up. It would be a simple thing to break it down, Luke’s shielding still left much to be desired, but he knew the pain that would cause Luke and he did not want to hurt his son any more than he already had. And he had clearly felt Luke’s frustration over his hovering before the boy had shut him out. His son was not used to having a bond like this, not used to the feeling of someone else’s mind so deeply intertwined with his. Whatever bond, if any, Luke had formed with Obi-Wan had not had time to properly develop. And whoever had taken over his training after Kenobi’s death… Well. That was information he would get out of the boy sooner rather than later. But he doubted that that bond was very strong either.

In any case, Luke needed mental privacy. As much as it frustrated him, he could respect that. Vader quickly vowed to himself to never break down Luke’s shields unless absolutely necessary.

Vader sighed. He gestured at the boarding ramp, opening it with a mere thought, and descended to the hangar floor. The stormtroopers and officers all straightened infinitesimally at his appearance, but he ignored them. The captain nodded his head in a shallow bow.

“I trust he has not escaped in the last half hour,” Vader said, the dryness in his voice not translating well through the vocoder. The captain blinked, missing his sarcasm.

“No, my Lord, he is still – ”

Vader waved him silent, gritting his teeth in annoyance. This was why he despised working with people outside of his own personal command. His officers weren’t perfect, but they were the closest thing to it. And at least Piett understood when he was being sarcastic. That man was a Force-send, even if Vader would never admit it outside of his own mind.

The captain scurried to keep up with Vader’s long strides.

“My Lord, these stormtroopers are at your disposal if you desire additional security…” he trailed off as Vader held up a hand again.

“I can handle a solitary officer, Captain,” Vader said.

“Of – of course, my Lord. I did not mean – ”

“Captain,” he warned. The officer’s stammering fell silent, but his hands continued to worry at the edges of his sleeves and he was projecting his fear, much more than the situation warranted. Vader’s curiosity got the better of him and he examined the officer’s mind more closely.

_“ – said he’d tell him it wasn’t my fault. Please, not my fault. I got there as soon as I could. Please – ”_

Ah. He was terrified Vader would blame him for Luke’s injuries. A realistic worry, all things considered. But Vader’s rage had already found its target and the captain’s memory of Luke promising to protect him headed off any anger he might have otherwise felt for the officer. And he was forced to admit that his actions _had_ probably saved Luke’s life.

“I believe you have a ship to run, Captain,” Vader said, dismissing him. The man’s relief was instant.

“Yes, my Lord!” He saluted. “Thank you, my Lord.”

~*~

Darth Vader felt his mood darken as he drew closer to the detention level of the _Subjugator_. Though he had reined in his fury around his son, sensing Luke’s discomfort at it, he now allowed it to surge unchecked. The barrier Luke had thrown up around his mind, annoying as it was, would help to block his awareness of it, though his son would doubtless feel it anyways.

Stormtroopers and officers scattered out of his way as he stalked down the corridors. Everyone in the Imperial Navy knew enough to stay clear of him when he was like this. They did not have to be Force-sensitive to feel his rage. And even if he wasn’t in a bad mood, no one wanted to stand in his way.

The final turbolift took him directly to the detention level. The lift seemed to fight gravity, crawling down the shaft at a ridiculously slow pace. Vader chafed at the delay, even though he knew this lift was no slower than any on his own ship. But a trickle of emotion from Luke, something resigned and longing, strengthened his desire to return to his son as quickly as possible. So as soon as the turbolift stopped, he did not bother to wait for the door to open on its own, but rather flung it aside with the Force.

There was a single guard in the command center of the _Subjugator_ ’s cell block. He was young, not much older than Luke was, his blond hair under his cap slightly longer than regulation. His black uniform marked him as a noncom. He looked up as the turbolift door opened, his youthful face going pale at the sight of Darth Vader.

“My Lord!” He scrambled to his feet and stood to attention, snapping his heels together. His expression was a mixture of fear and awe, and Vader had the distinct impression that this was the first time the… boy, he really was still just a boy, had ever been in the same room as him. Not surprising, as there were few Imperials outside of the Death Squadron who were around him with any regularity.

He ignored the noncom’s wide-eyed stare, his surprised gape. Had no one seen fit to inform him that Darth Vader was arriving to take custody of the Lieutenant-Commander? And why was there only one guard? Prison breaks on Star Destroyers were rare, but not unheard of. If Vader was not so eager to return to his own ship and his son, he would have gone to the bridge to address the problem with the captain. It was his second blunder today, something Vader never tolerated. But as it was, the annoyance he usually would have felt was conspicuously absent. Luke’s presence was having even more of an effect on him than he had first thought.

“Which cell is Ozzel in?” he demanded, wasting no time on pleasantries.

“Um,” the guard glanced down at the screen on his desk. “12C.” He gestured at the hallway leading to his left as he spoke. Vader swept past him, not bothering to acknowledge him. He felt the boy’s relief as soon as the Sith’s attention was no longer focused on him. His emotions were curiously strong in the Force and Vader briefly wondered if he wasn’t Force-attuned, if not mildly sensitive. If he was, it was not enough to warrant a report to the Emperor. The boy probably was not even aware of it.

Vader’s footsteps echoed loudly on the durasteel floor of the corridor. This was done on purpose, the acoustics of the hallway designed to bounce sounds, whether they were footsteps or screams, between the cells. Dread of an interrogation was often enough to break prisoners, even before questioning could begin. Fear was a powerful weapon, and one that Vader was adept at using.

12C was halfway down the corridor and Vader paused in front of it, allowing several cycles of his respirator to pass before he touched the panel to open the cell door, monitoring Ozzel’s emotions. The officer’s fear spiked as he realized the footsteps had stopped outside his cell and the longer Vader waited, the more agitated Ozzel became. But there was a delicate balance to this process and Vader opened the door just before the fear could give way to resolve or resignation. Although he was not going to interrogate Ozzel, as there was no need for it, he relished the opportunity to begin his revenge. He had promised the Lieutenant-Commander a slow death and he would deliver, as the man well knew. But for now, Vader would let Ozzel’s imagination run rampant, dredging up his own fears of what was to come.

He did have questions, of course, but if he had read the Lieutenant-Commander correctly, and he was rarely wrong, they would be questions the man would answer willingly. Or willingly enough.

The lights in the cell were brighter than what would be standard for a normal room, slightly brighter than was comfortable on the eyes. Vader’s mask adjusted to compensate for this, but the Lieutenant-Commander probably had a mild headache from it. The walls, floor, and ceiling were polished black durasteel, with nothing but a shelf jutting out from the wall for the occupant to sit or sleep on.

Ozzel stood up as Vader entered the cell, his hands, cuffed in front of him, curled into tight fists. Tension radiated through his body and his mind reeked with an equal mix of fear and disgust. Vader stopped in the middle of the cell, placing his hands on his hips and regarding the prisoner.

“You’re here to kill me?” the officer sneered, attempting to hide his panic behind a smoke screen of bravado.

“Not yet,” Vader replied, pitching his voice lower than normal in a dark promise. The Dark Side coiled around him and around Ozzel, purring in anticipation of blood. His hands itched to close around the officer’s neck, to feel his throat constrict and crush beneath his durasteel fingers. Murderous intent danced red across his eyes and it was only with a great effort of will that Vader pushed the desire aside. It was too soon to kill the Lieutenant-Commander, and strangling him was too quick, too easy.

Ozzel shivered, a visible shudder running through him at the malice in Vader’s voice and the plummet of the cell’s temperature in response to the Sith’s fury.

“All this, just for a Rebel. I don’t understand – ”

“No, you do not understand,” Vader snapped. “But did you ever stop to think that there was a _reason_ I wanted him alive? That perhaps you were doing more harm to the Empire as a whole by trying to kill him?” Vader glared at the man, though of course he could not see it. Ozzel’s face twisted in annoyance at Vader’s phrasing.

“So I take it the brat survived, then?” The tone was biting and Vader felt his ire rise in response to the term directed at his son. He flung his arm out and Ozzel hit the back wall of the cell with enough force to drive the air out of his lungs. If he had impacted at a different angle, he very well could have broken his neck. But Vader was not finished with him yet, and he felt a dark satisfaction from the powerful surge of fear now radiating from the man. He was crouched on the floor against the wall, struggling to draw a breath into protesting lungs. His eyes watched Vader warily, but the Sith did not advance on him and he lowered his arm to rest his hand back on his hip.

“Skywalker,” Vader hissed, “did indeed survive. Fortunately for you. There are very few reasons why I desire live captures. When I _do_ want someone alive, it is usually for the good of the Empire or on the Emperor’s orders. The Emperor would have been _most_ displeased if Skywalker had died.”

Strictly speaking, this was true, though of course Vader’s own wrath would have been far worse than Palpatine’s. But this was a good way to distract Ozzel from the truth.

“The Emperor?” Ozzel’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. He was still trying to catch his breath, but his fear would have rendered him speechless regardless.

“I told you that you did not understand. You chose to meddle in things beyond your comprehension, and you ignored Skywalker’s warnings. There is more at work here than simply my desires and your misguided efforts for revenge. Now your actions have labeled you a traitor,” Vader informed him coldly.

Ozzel struggled to his feet, finally recovered from having the breath knocked from him. Vader watched impassively as he tried to stand, his efforts made more difficult by his cuffed hands.

“So you’re… my executioner, then?” he asked, his voice weak and breathy.

“Eventually. For now, you have been stripped of your rank, dishonorably discharged from the Imperial Navy, and been placed under arrest on charges of treason. You have been transferred to my custody and I will kill you myself whenever I see fit.”

Ozzel blanched, but recovered quickly.

“I didn’t realize… you needed authorization… to kill Imperial officers,” he snarled, his eyes burning with hatred.

 _If he was Force-sensitive, he would be drenched in the Dark Side,_ Vader noted with mild interest.

“I do not. I answer only to the Emperor and the list of people in his favor that I am not allowed to touch is _very_ short.”

Vader stalked forward, bored with the conversation and growing restless in his separation from Luke. Ozzel held his ground, remarkably cloaking himself in his stubborn bravado again. He did flinch slightly when Vader reached for him, but that was hardly surprising. Luke was the only person who did not cringe away from Vader’s touch. That was a minor miracle in and of itself.

Vader seized Ozzel’s arm and dragged him from the cell, ignoring the man’s protests as he stumbled after him, trying to keep up with the Sith’s long strides. He found a grim satisfaction in the situation, and the noncom guard’s wide eyes as they passed were gratifying.

The turbolift door slid open and Vader shoved the former officer in ahead of him with a little more force than was necessary. Ozzel glared at him as he stepped into the lift, but the expression was marred by his panicked eyes. The air was tense, humming with the deadly cocktail of the man’s fear and Vader’s anger, and the Dark Side snarled in pleasure. Vader kept his hands clenched into fists at his sides to prevent himself from killing the man then and there. This… _coward_ had dared to hurt his son, had dared to defy him. He had destroyed men for far less.

Vader growled at Ozzel when the door slid open with a small _ping_.

“Walk.”

Ozzel narrowed his eyes but did as he was told, slinking around the Sith to walk ahead of him. Vader followed him closely, boots nearly clipping the backs of Ozzel’s heels with each step as he urged him forward quickly. The former officer had to nearly jog to stay ahead of him. They drew the curious, fearful stares of the crew as they hurried through the corridors of the _Subjugator_ , all the officers and stormtroopers pressed against the walls to stay out of their way. No one dared to look at them for more than a second before they dropped their gazes to the floor. Fear choked the passages of the ship, and part of Vader reveled in it.

Ozzel was compliant until they reached the hangar bay and he caught sight of Vader’s shuttle. Like Luke, he balked at the sight of it, stopping suddenly in front of Vader. The Sith shoved his back roughly and he stumbled forward. He found his feet and continued to the shuttle, much more reluctantly. Apparently, the situation had finally caught up to him. The sight of the Lambda-class seemed to have that effect on prisoners, Vader had discovered.

Vader had to drag Ozzel up the ramp. He fought the urge to simply knock the man unconscious, but he did not want to deal with carrying him once they reached the _Executor_. The ramp began closing the second their boots hit the deck and Ozzel jerked his head in surprise, eyes wide when they turned to look at Vader’s mask.

 _Impressed by such a meager demonstration of the Force,_ Vader thought disgustedly. He shoved the man into one of the seats and released his left hand from the binders, locking the loose end around the arm of the chair. Ozzel tugged at his restraints almost immediately, a reflex reaction. The binders held.

Vader turned away and again sent his mind racing along the link to Luke. He was still denied access to his son’s mind, but the earlier melancholy was absent. Whatever had triggered it had passed. He withdrew from the link and settled back into the pilot’s seat, again running the startup sequence. The shuttle was being put through its paces today.

~*~

Darth Vader only stayed in the cell block long enough to throw the former officer into a cell and ensure that he was guarded at all times before returning to the bridge. He found Luke and Piett standing in his normal place in front of the center viewport. A small smile tugged at his lips at the sight. He was not surprised in the least, and he was pleased that the two seemed to be getting along. It would have been awkward otherwise. Vader needed both of them.

Luke turned to look at him as he entered the bridge, taking half a step towards him like he had when Vader first met him on the _Subjugator_. Piett was slower to respond, only turning after Luke moved. But he approached his commander as soon as he saw him, leaving Luke standing alone at the front of the bridge.

“My Lord,” Piett greeted him again. Any further welcome would have been awkward, considering that it had been barely half a standard hour since Vader had left. Vader nodded at him before returning his gaze to Luke. The boy stood uncomfortably across the bridge for a moment longer before slowly approaching. Vader studied him, curious. It wasn’t reluctance that held him back. Uncertainty, maybe? It was difficult to tell with his mind still closed off.

Piett shifted to make room for Luke to stand next to him as he approached.

“I trust you managed to stay out of trouble while I was gone?” Vader asked, his voice dry.

Luke grinned at him. “I’m not _that_ bad. I think I can handle an hour without a babysitter.” His gaze flickered to Piett for a moment before returning to meet Vader’s eyes. He did not know if he would ever get used to his ability to do that. How the boy knew exactly where to look continued to astound him.

 _“But I would like to get away from the curious stares for a while. It’s beginning to make me uncomfortable,”_ Luke broke his mental silence.

_“That can be arranged.”_

“I will take him from here, Admiral,” Vader said. “Return to your normal duties.” Piett nodded.

“Pleasure to meet you, Commander.” He gave Luke a warm smile, which the boy returned.

“Likewise, Admiral.”

Vader felt a surge of satisfaction; they would work well together. But he had to tamp down on the unexpected tinge of jealousy that came with the exchange. Luke would need other human contact besides himself, he knew this. He accepted this. He had even planned on initiating several other relationships for the boy, and encouraging any he found on his own. If he knew anything about his son, he knew that the boy thrived on sentient interaction. Luke would never do well in isolation. Being jealous of his Admiral was idiotic. He knew Luke’s feelings towards him. He had his son’s heart, if not his complete loyalty yet. Somehow.

“Come,” Vader said, breaking free of his introspection. He turned and held his hand out slightly, inviting Luke to take his place at his right side. Luke nodded farewell to Piett before stepping forward, settling naturally into his rightful position at his father’s side as they exited the bridge.

And Vader did not miss the way Luke briefly leaned into his hand as he rested it against his back.


	9. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke gets a new wardrobe, Vader is insecure and realizes some things, and Palpatine finally shows his ugly face.  
> I also had a _bit_ of fun describing Luke in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I was planning on getting this up sooner, but my college messed me up and now I have to take two writing classes simultaneously and that's a terrible idea. So my updates will be slow, but they will happen. And at least this is a nice, long chapter.  
> I wrote this chapter and then I decided I hated it, so I rewrote the entire thing. The funny thing is that I started the rewrite only a few days ago and I wrote it in about three sittings, so there's that. Inspiration struck.  
> There's probably some typos because I wanted to get it posted. I've made you guys wait long enough. Let me know if you see any so I can fix them.

Luke glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye as they moved through the corridors of the _Executor_. His posture was stiff, as always, and Luke had been unable to tell if the tension radiating from the man was normal or if it was a side-effect of his worry for Luke’s safety.

It was a relief to get away from the stares of the bridge crew. He had expected them to push their curiosity aside after there was no sign of an explanation for his presence, but their interest had only increased, and he found their mental attention overwhelming and distracting. Despite his attempts to block his awareness of it, there were simply too many people thinking too loudly about him. The attention of the officers and stormtroopers in the corridors was a passing thing and much easier to ignore.

“Where are we going?” Luke finally thought to ask as Vader ushered him inside a turbolift.

“Your quarters.”

“You already have them ready for me?” Luke asked, giving his father a quizzical look before realizing that _of course he did_.

Of course Vader had already prepared rooms for him. He should not be surprised by this.

“I have been planning accordingly since I first learned of your existence,” Vader replied without a hint of self-consciousness.

Luke’s face flushed as he thought of the implications of that. If his father had learned his identity from Boba Fett, then he had known since before the _Executor_ had been completed. Which meant that his rooms had been on this ship before it had ever been launched.

“Father…” He did not have a chance to finish speaking as the turbolift came to a gentle stop, and the door slid open to reveal an empty hallway several floors down from the bridge. It was almost a relief, as he did not have an actual reply planned. Luke stepped forward first, anticipating the pressure of Vader’s hand on his back moments before he felt it.

 _I wonder if he’s ever going to **stop** doing that?_ He figured he would, as soon as the novelty of having Luke around wore off. He couldn’t imagine Vader guiding him around _everywhere_ , and he had a sudden mental picture of his father parading him in front of the Emperor like this. It was almost comical, except for the very real possibility of the situation. He had managed to avoid thinking about the probability of being brought to the Emperor since his conversation about it with his father, but now his fear threatened to resurge. He pushed it back, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and releasing his panic into the Force at the same time. They would deal with it when they needed to, and not a moment before.

Vader did not seem to notice his lapse.

“This is my private wing of the ship,” he said as he guided Luke down the hallway. The corridor didn’t look much different from any of the others they had walked through, except for the lack of guards, and there were considerably fewer doors on the right hand side. Vader identified the first one they passed as his. Judging by the distance between the doors, the rooms had to be quite large.

_Not surprising, considering who Vader is. He’s second-in-command of the entire Empire._

That was still such a strange concept. Vader had become something both less and more than the legends since Luke had learned the truth, and he had a difficult time thinking of him in terms of his station. Vader was heir to the Empire, and if Luke was _his_ heir… Vader had thrown around threats of putting him on the throne, but Luke wasn’t sure if he had entirely grasped the consequences of what that would mean.

“These are yours.” Vader’s voice pulled Luke from his thoughts as they stopped in front of the next door down from Vader’s own. He moved his hand from Luke’s back to enter a code into the data panel next to the door. Luke paid attention to the string of numbers, attempting to memorize it, but got lost halfway through. He’d just have to get the code from his father later.

Luke followed his father into the room, his eyes skipping around it quickly as he catalogued everything in sight. It was a survival instinct he had cultivated long before ever joining the Alliance, but his years as a Rebel had only increased his proficiency at it.

At a brief glance, the front room was not that different from the office of the guest suite on the _Subjugator_. It was larger, not quite twice the size. It was certainly larger than his bedroom on Tatooine, and this was just the entrance room. Shuttered viewports lined the far wall behind the desk, which was furnished with a computer. Luke didn’t doubt that the Holonet capabilities had been disabled, even considering his vow. The chair behind the desk was black leather, identical to the one on the _Subjugator_.

Doors led to both the right and the left, unlike the guest suite. Data panels flanked both doors, indicating that they could both be locked. Luke thought back to the layout of the doors in the hallway and frowned.

“Are our rooms connected?” he asked, indicating the door to their right.

Vader nodded. “That door leads to my office. It is a… safety precaution. So we do not need to enter the hallway in the case of an emergency.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at him, and Vader folded his arms across his chest. It was an almost defensive posture, and Luke caught a fleeting spark of embarrassment from his father. They were silent for a moment, and the silence was punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of Vader’s breathing and the hum of the Star Destroyer’s engines. The pause in the conversation was edging towards awkward when Vader finally spoke again.

“I have not set up a code for the rest of your rooms. You can choose it yourself and you will not be required to tell me.”

Now Luke blinked in surprised gratitude. It was a significant gesture of trust, coming from Vader, and Luke could feel his reluctance to relinquish even this small amount of control. He followed the thread of the emotion and found it rooted not in possessiveness but rather a fierce desire to protect him.

_He was a slave. Of course he’s not going to see me as a possession._

It was not the first time a similar thought had crossed Luke’s mind, but it was the first time the thought led him to wonder how Vader had reacted to finding out that Grakkus had tried to own him. It was a wholly unsuitable time to bring that up, so he bit back his questions.

“Thanks. I… appreciate that.” He glanced down at the floor, scuffing his boot against the polished durasteel surface. His father’s uneasiness about allowing him to lock Vader out was still buzzing across their link, despite his best efforts to contain it. Luke sighed.

“Father, I’m not going to just hide in my room. I’ve had enough of confinement. Besides, I have a hard time believing that a simple lock would keep you out if you were determined to get in.” He gave Vader a wry grin and felt his relief at his promise. It occurred to Luke that perhaps he wasn’t the only one who was overly attached…

“You are correct. But I will make an effort not to invade your privacy, if you wish it.” He ground the words out. They obviously cost him a lot of effort. But Vader had never lied to him, so any words he spoke were as good as a vow, and Luke could feel his honesty in any case. He ducked his head and smiled. When he had surrendered to the Empire, he hadn’t expected to be promised privacy by Darth Vader. It was further proof that there was still good in his father, something he had never doubted.

“Thank you, Father.”

Vader did not reply, but he took hold of Luke’s arm and gently pulled him over to the other door, the one that led to the rest of the rooms. True to Vader’s word, it was not locked and slid open at their approach. Luke gaped when he caught sight of the rooms behind the door. He had expected his accommodations to be large, but this… it bordered on extravagance. Then again, considering the size of the _ship_ , was he really surprised?

The room adjacent to the office was a living room furnished with a black leather couch and several matching chairs. The wall of viewports continued into this room and, as with the office, they were currently shuttered. A large holoprojector sat in front of the opposite wall, and the floor was actually carpeted, something Luke had never expected to see on a warship.

The door directly across the room from them was open to what Luke guessed was probably his bedroom. Vader led him through the living room to the next room, and Luke saw he was right when he glimpsed the large bed pushed up against the wall. There was only one viewport in this room, and besides the bed, it was sparsely furnished with a small desk and chair in the corner and a dresser. Two doors were set into the far wall, probably leading to a ‘fresher and a closet. A chrono hung on the wall, displaying the Imperial Standard time and date.

Like everywhere else on the ship, the room was colored in the monochrome black and gray of the Imperial Navy.

 _That will be the first thing to change,_ Luke thought, surprising himself by how easily he had accepted the rooms as his own.

He wandered away from his father to explore the room further and stopped in front of the door he assumed led to the closet. He was correct. It was a full walk-in closet, and it… already had clothing in it. Luke stared for a moment and reached out to touch the fabric of the nearest shirt. He rubbed it between his fingers, marveling for a moment at the texture. He didn’t know enough about fashion to say what the fabric was, but he was certain that it was high quality and probably very expensive.

 _Nothing but the best for the heir to the Empire,_ he thought, making a face. And somehow, he had no doubts that it would all fit perfectly. He turned to glare accusingly at his father.

“You weren’t kidding when you said that acquiring new clothing wouldn’t be a problem. How did you even…” Luke held up a hand and closed his eyes. “No, I don’t actually want to know.” He had a sudden image of his father sending spies into the Rebellion specifically to find out his shoe size, and he found that the picture was harder to dismiss than he would have liked. He had to admit that it probably wasn’t very far from the truth.

“I can leave if you would like to change now,” Vader offered.

Luke did not have to think long about it. The stolen Imperial uniform was still chafing at his shoulder, and while any shirt outside of a singlet would rub, at least the fabric of the clothing in his closet was softer. And he was simply uncomfortable walking around in an Imperial uniform.

He nodded, and Vader turned to leave the room before Luke could speak. He waited until the bedroom door slid closed before turning his attention back to the closet. One wall was dedicated to shirts in a variety of styles and colors, though most were black or at least dark. The implications of that were not lost on Luke, but he was not overly bothered by it, as his own wardrobe had been tending towards darker colors anyways.

It took him a few minutes to glance through the options before he selected a black shirt midway between casual and formal. It was a bit more militaristic in style than he would have liked, but most of the shirts were. He grabbed a pair of black pants as well before exiting the closet and heading to the ‘fresher. Luke had not had much of an opportunity to clean up since his capture. He had taken a quick shower on the _Subjugator_ yesterday so at least he did not need to take one now. But he took the opportunity to deal with his basic needs before stripping out of the uniform.

There was a full length mirror on the wall, and Luke paused when he caught sight of himself in it. Mirrors were an extravagance the Alliance did not value very highly. It was simply not practical to worry about large pieces of reflective glass when you were constantly fleeing around the Galaxy, and Luke had not seen a full mirror in a long time. He took a shocked moment to examine himself. He was thinner than he remembered, all of his lingering baby fat stripped away by the meager rations of the Rebellion and his training on Dagobah. He was still short, and that was unlikely to change, but his muscles were also lean despite their definition, and he knew that once he was clothed, no one would suspect he was as strong as he was. A starburst of scar tissue on his left arm indicated where Boba Fett had shot him, and a few other pale lines of scars marked his body from various injuries sustained in battle and from accidents on the farm, including a thick one on his right thigh where a broken piece of metal from the skyhopper had pierced him during a crash.

His face was less of a surprise, as he saw it on a more regular basis. But now he took the opportunity to study it closely, something he had not really had time for in recent months. There was a light bruise on his cheek that Vader had identified when he had picked him up. They had both forgotten to put a bacta patch on it. It wasn’t large or painful enough to really _warrant_ one, and Luke grimaced at the thought of wasting the expensive substance on something so trivial.

Thinking about bacta drew his attention back to his shoulder, and he stripped the patch off, wincing as the adhesive pulled at his skin. The bruise had definitely faded since yesterday, though it was still an ugly mottled purple. Luke rolled his shoulder experimentally and was pleased to find that it hurt significantly less. The bacta was doing its job, but at this point it seemed unnecessary to apply another patch. The injury would heal quickly enough on its own, and there was no danger of scarring.

Luke slipped the new clothes on and couldn’t help his grin at how perfectly they fit. The black shirt hugged his slender frame in a very flattering way, and the fabric did not irritate his shoulder. He tried not to think about how much something like this would cost and pushed away the thought that he was probably wearing more credits than he had ever actually _seen_.

It was easy to move in and would not get in the way during a fight. The downside to the tight fit of his clothing was that there was no place to conceal his lightsaber. He contemplated it for a moment before clipping it to his belt with a resigned sigh. He would probably have to leave it behind until he could carry it openly.

He glanced in the mirror one last time before exiting the ‘fresher, running his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it. It had darkened slightly in the years since he had left the bleaching influence of the suns of Tatooine, but it was still distinctly blond.

Returning to the closet, Luke grabbed a pair of knee-high black boots to complete the ensemble. They were far more comfortable than the uniform’s boots, though he assumed that was because those had not been fitted for him specifically. He again tried not to think about how exactly his father had gotten hold of his measurements. The thought of one of Vader’s agents being close enough to him to go through his things was unnerving.

He tugged on the hem of his shirt to straighten it and fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves. He was suddenly nervous to face his father again. But he couldn’t put this off forever, so he took a breath and let it out slowly, reaching for the calming light of the Force as he did so. Once he was confident he had released as much of his anxiety as he could, he left the bedroom to look for his father.

Vader was standing in front of one of the viewports, presumably staring out at Tatooine wheeling beneath them, or maybe just out at space itself. Luke approached him slowly and stood at his side, turning his own gaze to their home planet.

“I haven’t been back since you sent Fett after me,” Luke murmured. He continued staring out through the transparisteel as he spoke, even as he felt Vader turn his gaze on him. “Now Han’s down there.” He finally looked up at his father. “We should rescue him while we’re still here.”

“No.”

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but Vader continued before he could. “It would be too suspicious to leave the ship together before your identity has been revealed. We will return to retrieve your smuggler after the announcement.”

Luke huffed but had to admit that his father had a point. “Fine.”

“I am sorry about Fett.”

Luke frowned, creasing his brow in confusion. “What?”

“I did not know who you were when I sent him after you.”

“Oh,” Luke said, remembering his earlier comment. “It’s fine. I handled him. But it was a close one.” He grinned. “You almost got me then. Fett’s good at what he does.”

“I was surprised you escaped him.”

“Not unscathed,” Luke admitted. “It was more dumb luck than anything.”

“You were injured?”

Luke gave a short laugh. “You could say that. I’d be dead if you hadn’t given him the order to take me in alive. Fett’s not exactly known for being gentle with his targets. According to him, ‘Alive just means breathing.’”

Leather creaked as Vader clenched his fists.

“Don’t blame him,” Luke said quickly. He didn’t know why he was defending the bounty hunter. He had done nothing but harm him and his friends. But he didn’t feel right just standing by and allowing his father’s wrath to find its mark. “He’d normally be right. If I was anyone but your son, you wouldn’t have had a problem with him bringing me back bloody, and you know it.”

“You are far too forgiving.”

“You don’t get to complain about that. You’re the biggest benefactor of it.” Luke winced as soon as the words left his mouth, but Vader wasn’t stung by the comment, rather he seemed to be amused.

“My point stands.”

Luke opened his mouth to reply, annoyed at his father’s self-deprecation, but Vader turned to face him before he could say anything. He felt his father’s eyes on him, studying him, and he found it amusing that his father cared so much about his appearance.

 _I wouldn’t have thought he’d care much about it, or even **know** much about it._ Vader had always seemed so bent on practicality that the thought of him caring about fashion in any way was astounding. _Although… his cape doesn’t do much outside of adding to his image._

Vader ran his hands along Luke’s arms, tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves, and then reached up to straighten his collar. Luke gave an involuntary gasp at the touch of Vader’s hand against his throat, even though he knew that he would never hurt him. Horror at what he’d done flooded him, even as his father froze at the tiny sound for a second before he yanked his hand away. Luke caught his arm before Vader could turn away, momentarily unnerved at the feel of durasteel under his grip. He had known his father had prosthetic limbs, but he hadn’t realized they extended this far up his arm.

“I trust you,” he said, pouring as much sincerity as he could into his voice. He stepped closer to Vader, holding his arm tightly, but the Sith twisted his arm out of his grasp and took a step back.

“You are foolish to do so.” The words were tightly controlled, and Luke felt his father’s already durasteel-strong shields strengthen even more. He was not completely closed off like he had been earlier in the corridor, as Luke could still feel his presence, but he could sense nothing of his thoughts or emotions.

“You promised to never hurt me, and I believe you. I know you would never intentionally – ”

Vader whirled on him, cape snapping from the violence of the motion. Luke took a startled step back as Vader stalked forward and seized his right wrist. He held it up in front of Luke’s face, pushing the sleeve down to expose the faint line where synthskin met real flesh.

“This was not intentional,” Vader snarled. “This was me losing control. It happened once, it could happen again – ”

Luke cut him off this time. “It won’t. I know it won’t.” He reached up and carefully pried Vader’s hand away from his wrist, then held his father’s hand in his own. His pale fingers were dwarfed by the gloved durasteel ones of his father’s, and he knew Vader could easily pull away from his touch, but he didn’t.

“You’re far more afraid of hurting me than I am of being hurt by you. Let go of it, Father. This,” he held up his wrist, “happened in the heat of battle. It’s my fault as much as yours. You gave me time to surrender, and I didn’t take it. You know as well as I do that disarming me,” he smiled wryly at the word, “was the only option outside of killing me.”

“That does not justify – ”

“No, it doesn’t justify it.” Luke shook his head. “But it happened. You can’t change the past, Father, but you can learn from it. And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m not fighting you anymore. We’re not going to be in that position again.” He tried to smile reassuringly at Vader, but it felt a little forced.

_Well, as long as you don’t try to take the throne or push me to turn._

“Luke…” Vader turned his head away for a long moment before looking back at him. He extricated his hand from Luke’s and hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. But he stopped before he made contact, and his hand dropped to pull Luke’s lightsaber off his belt.

“Why are you wearing this?”

Luke frowned at his father’s abrupt change of topic and clear avoidance of the issue, but decided to let it go for now. He held his arms out to showcase his clothes. “There’s nowhere to conceal it.”

Vader stared at him for a moment, then swept past him back into the sitting room and through it to the bedroom. Luke trailed after him and stood in the doorway, watching as Vader searched for something in the closet. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam, raising an eyebrow at his father when he emerged holding a long piece of black fabric.

“Come here.” He gestured, and Luke pushed off the wall to approach him. Vader handed him his saber and held up the fabric. Luke gave a disbelieving chuckle when he got a better look at it.

“Well, I’m really going to be a mini you, aren’t I?”

Luke sighed as Vader attached the cape to his left shoulder. It was only a half cape, draping over only one shoulder and falling not quite to his knees. Vader positioned it so it covered Luke’s left arm, but if he wanted to, he could sweep it back completely over his shoulder. Luke quickly saw the benefit of it, and the reason his father had grabbed it. When he slid his lightsaber’s belt clip farther out towards his hip and clipped the saber on, it was hidden by the cape.

But…

“I feel ridiculous.” He lifted his left arm out to the side, fanning the cape out. This would definitely get in the way if he had to fight. And it was a style that made him look far too much like royalty, a thought that made him uncomfortable.

“It is a look befitting your station,” Vader countered, confirming Luke’s suspicions of his father’s ulterior motive for the choice of clothing.

“Right,” Luke huffed. He tried to cross his arms and promptly got his arm caught up in the cape. He fought with it for a moment before dropping his arms back to his sides and glaring at Vader as he felt his amusement.

“Why do you even bother with a cape?” Luke asked. “It seems like such a frivolous thing for you.”

Vader grasped the edge of his cape and held it up for Luke’s inspection. He examined the cape for a moment, running his fingers along the fabric, and then looked up at his father in surprise.

“It’s – ”

“Armourweave, yes.”

“Okay, that makes more sense,” Luke admitted. “But isn’t it heavy?”

Vader moved his shoulders in what might have been a shrug. “It is nothing.”

There was something behind that statement, and Luke narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but in the end it would have been a pointless discussion, so he let it slide.

“Can I get a tour of the ship?” he asked instead.

If Vader was surprised by the change in conversation, he did not show it.

“If you desire one.” His voice was dry, clearly already knowing the answer.

Luke grinned.

~*~

The _Executor_ was a very large ship. Despite his best efforts, Luke quickly got turned around, and he knew it would be a long time before he could navigate the complicated corridor system with any confidence.

“You’re going to have to supply me with a map,” he muttered to Vader.

“I can supply you with the blueprints of the ship if you would like.”

“Seriously?” Luke gaped. “I didn’t think you’d trust me with something like that.”

“You will not be able to give them to anyone who could do damage with that sort of information.” Vader turned his head slightly towards him. “Even if your interest runs more towards snub fighters, I know your fascination with mechanics extends to warships.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, mind still buzzing with shock. He had never expected to get his hands on the schematics of a Star Destroyer, let alone an Executor-class. Another sign of his father’s trust. Luke just hoped he was worthy of it.

Quick footsteps echoed in the corridor behind them, and a harried voice called out, interrupting their conversation.

“My Lord Vader!”

Luke and Vader both stopped in the corridor and turned as an aide ran up to them, his mind buzzing with fear at having to address his commander.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Vader’s irritation was not audible in his voice, but Luke could feel it surging in the Force, and he winced at how close the aide was to having an invisible hand constricting his throat. Luke shifted his arm so that his elbow tapped lightly against his father’s side, digging in just enough to broadcast his displeasure.

“My Lord, the Emperor commands you to make contact with him.”

Vader’s fingers twitched against Luke’s back, and the flare of annoyance turned to one of concern, even as Luke’s own spine stiffened at the mention of the Emperor. Vader’s helmet turned a barest millimeter towards him, his weight shifting subtly in preparation to… what? Protect him in some way? He was on the verge of adopting a defensive fighting stance, which was odd for Darth Vader. The Sith was always on the offense.

Luke flicked his eyes up to glance at Vader’s mask.

_“Does he know?”_

_“Most likely.”_ Vader’s reply was terse, strained with anxiety for Luke’s safety.

“Very well, Lieutenant.”

Without waiting for the aide’s reply, Vader began walking back the way they’d come, pulling Luke along with him. Luke gave the frightened man an apologetic smile as he was led away, a gesture that was met with confusion.

“I will make the call from my private comm suite, so I will escort you to your own rooms first,” Vader said.

“Don’t want me eavesdropping on your conversation?” Luke asked, grinning.

“No!” Vader growled. He stopped and turned to look at Luke, pointing a gloved finger in his face. “ _Never_ do that.”

Luke held his hands up in surrender, surprised at his father’s ferocity. “I wouldn’t! Force, calm down. I was joking.”

“It was not amusing, young one.”

Luke made a face at the return of the belittling nicknames.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near the Emperor anyways, not even in hologram form.” He shuddered. The closest he had come was watching live holonet broadcasts of the Emperor’s speeches on Empire Day, and that was too close as it was.

“A wise decision.”

Luke could not decide if his father’s voice was colored with sarcasm or not.

~*~

Darth Vader paused beside his comm suite, taking a moment to secure his plans and emotional upheaval behind a shield of darkness. He allowed his anger to roil on the surface of his mind, projecting “Sith Lord” while still trying to maintain the image of an obedient servant. It was a delicate balance, but it was one he had long perfected out of a need for survival. But now it was even more imperative than ever that he keep his secrets hidden. Luke’s safety depended on it.

Once he was certain of his shields, he activated the comm suite, entering the Emperor’s frequency. He then knelt on the holo pad and waited for his Master to deign to answer him. He would not be surprised to be left waiting for several minutes, especially if Palpatine had felt any of his wayward emotions of the last day. Vader clenched his jaw against the pain in his legs, at the point where the prosthetics met flesh. Holding this kneeling position for any length of time only exacerbated the constant ache from the ill-fitted prosthetics, something that Palpatine well knew and often exploited.

Vader found his thoughts drifting to his son in a subconscious effort to distract himself and quickly reined them in. He could not afford such distraction, not now. He could not allow his Master to know just how much Luke was already affecting him.

The comm beeped as the blue-tinged hologram flickered to life, projecting the image of the Emperor above him.

“What is thy bidding, my Master?” Vader asked, the words so ingrained after two decades that he said them without thinking about their meaning.

“There has been a disturbance in the Force,” Palpatine said.

How many times had the Emperor began a conversation this way? Vader lifted his head to look at his Master and gave his usual reply to such a statement.

“I have felt it.”

“I have reason to believe it has something to do with Skywalker’s son.”

 _ **My** son,_ Vader thought, hiding his annoyance behind his shields. _Luke is **my** son._

“Yes. He is in my custody.” His Master likely already knew, and it was better to behave like he was hiding nothing.

“Is he?” Palpatine’s voice seeped false surprise. “Good!” He cackled, and Vader felt his sick satisfaction. It coated his Master’s presence like oil, dark and slick and polluted. Vader’s stomach twisted in revulsion.

“Will he turn?”

Vader hesitated. He needed to handle this delicately, or he risked being commanded to relinquish Luke. The thought of Palpatine anywhere near his son was nauseating. Flashes of his vision taunted him, Luke with yellow eyes and a bloody blade and a caustic smile. He could _not_ allow that to happen. The strength of his conviction surprised him, and he realized what he had always known: he did not want Luke to turn. He was momentarily grateful to Palpatine, as it had taken his presence to catalyze the revelation. But that gratitude quickly dissolved back into hatred. It was because of him that Luke was in this precarious situation in the first place.

Vader buried his feelings and returned his attention to the task at hand.

“He is… resistant,” Vader finally said, and pressed ahead even as he saw Palpatine’s lips beginning to form words. “But it is only a matter of time, my Master. He has already accepted that I am his father.”

He allowed his shields to slip a mere fraction, revealing one of his intentions for his son, before he strengthened them again, making it look like a mistake. Palpatine eyed him sharply, and Vader felt him test his shields, seeking weaknesses but not forcing his way in, even though that was well within his power and his right.

“I sense that you wish to claim him.” There was heavy disapproval behind the Emperor’s words.

“If the Galaxy knows he is my son, he will have nowhere to run. The Rebellion will not take him back after such a revelation,” he said. It was the truth, even if it was not the reason behind his desire. The best lies were crafted from the truth, something Palpatine had taught him. It was satisfying to use his own tricks against him.

“Hm.” The suspicion in his Master’s eyes did not dissipate, but now they were narrowed in thought. Vader watched him turn his words over in his mind and felt him push on his shields again. His chest was heavy, and he knew he would be holding his breath if his respirator would allow it.

“Yes,” Palpatine hissed, breaking his long silence. “You may do this. Claim the boy, cut him off from his friends. Isolate him and break him. Keep me informed of his progress and when he has fallen, bring him to me.”

“Yes, my Master.” Vader bowed his head again as the Emperor cut the transmission, and he was left alone in his chambers.

He stood slowly, growling under his breath at the burn in his muscles. As soon as he was upright, he braced his hand against the shell of his hyperbaric chamber, giving the cramps in his legs a moment to loosen before he attempted to walk. He growled again, louder this time, as he trapped his anger inside his own mind, not allowing it to cross the light years to its target. But he reveled in the knowledge that his freedom was coming, cloaked in light and wearing the face of his son.

Luke. The boy would be his salvation. Together they would be strong enough to defeat Palpatine. And even if his Master’s suspicions had been raised, he was content to let the game play out, at least for now, as Vader had hoped. Relief lifted the burden of his fears, and he closed his eyes for a moment, finally allowing his mind to brush against his son’s Light again.

 _Luke,_ he thought, without actually activating their bond. _You are safe for now. I can finally protect you, as I should have been able to for the last 23 years._

Vader contemplated his decision to keep Luke from falling. It was a sudden turnaround of his intentions, and though he had planned to seek help from the Force before coming to a decision, the wrongness he felt at the thought of Luke swathed in darkness was enough to convince him. His son was a creature of pure Light, and he did not want to see him corrupted. And Vader knew from Luke’s insistence that he would never turn that the boy would hate him if he pushed the issue. That was something he could not bear. An emotion he had not felt for over two decades was beating in his chest, and he felt more alive than he ever had since his rebirth. He could not lose this.

Suddenly claustrophobic, he fumbled for the controls on the side of his hyperbaric chamber and managed to activate it. He limped up the steps and collapsed into his chair, desperate to be rid of the helmet if even for a moment. Machinery responded to his commands, and he was soon breathing the pressurized air of the chamber without the aid of the mask. It wasn’t much in the way of freedom, but it was enough to calm the blind panic that befell him during a spell of claustrophobia. He had not suffered one this strong in years.

Vader focused on his breathing, closing his eyes and sinking into a light meditation for a few moments.

He did not intend to search the Force for glimpses of the future, but the images came anyways.

_A scream tore through the air and cut off suddenly in a wet gurgle as Luke turned to face him, holding his lightsaber casually in his hand. The tip of the red blade dragged along the ground, searing the durasteel, and the scent of molten metal made it past the filters in Vader’s mask._

_Luke flicked his eyes up to meet his, and they were a sickly yellow. They burned in his once-kind face, and now his lips twisted into a mockery of a smile._

_“Hello, Father.” He raised the hand holding the lightsaber and swept it to the side as he folded his left hand against his stomach and lowered his torso in a contemptuous bow. “Have you finally decided to face me?” The smirk fell from his lips. “All this is your fault. You made me, after all.”_

“No!” Vader yelled, yanking himself back from the Force. He found himself kneeling on the floor of his hyperbaric chamber, bracing his hands against the ground. He must have slid from his chair sometime during the vision. He remained kneeling as he fought to breathe, horror pulsing through him. If he had had any remaining doubts about preventing Luke’s fall, they were gone now.

“I will not let that happen,” he growled. He needed to do whatever it took to keep Luke away from Palpatine.

_“All this is your fault. You made me, after all.”_

“No.” He would not be responsible for turning his son into that… _monster_.

He pushed himself up and sat back in his chair. His eyes found the small holo he kept here. Luke’s face looked back at him from his bounty notice, the only holo he had of his son. It was a candid picture, the boy’s face turned slightly away from the camera, a subtle grin on his lips as he talked to someone out of the frame, presumably another pilot as Luke was dressed in his orange flight suit. It was a rather _good_ holo, all things considered. Vader had forgiven the spy who had brought it back for failing another part of his mission.

Vader sighed and dragged his mind back to the present. In order to protect him, they would have to fake Luke’s fall, a slow descent to darkness. At least Luke’s stubbornness could play in their favor here. The Emperor would not be surprised if it took Luke a long time to fall, and it would give them time to lay their plans. But they would have to be careful to show _some_ progress, or his Master would grow impatient and demand Luke be brought to him. And if he took Luke, the boy’s fall would be inevitable. Even Luke would not be able to withstand the Emperor’s methods forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of my readers are of the artistic variety and would like to take a shot at drawing Luke in his new outfit, please do. I would like to see it. :)  
> I was planning on having Luke talk to Leia in this chapter, but it went longer than expected, so that will probably happen in the next chapter. I know you're all waiting anxiously for that.  
> Sorry if Vader's decision seems a bit early. I tried to make him wait, but he was impatient and no matter what I did, he came to this decision. *shrug*  
> Also, thanks to jerseydevious for the idea of Vader forgiving his spies their mistakes if they bring him a picture of his son.


	10. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of emotions in this one. That's it, just a lot of emotions. And lightsabers and a fairly important conversation. And they both make promises. But it's mostly emotions.  
> This chapter is all Luke and Vader feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _so sorry_ for this ridiculous wait! This semester got crazy at the end and I was super busy working on stuff for my classes. I also hit a creative slump and all the writing I managed to do was terrible. I ended up rewriting over half this chapter. And then I had absolutely no motivation to do any sort of writing for over a month, and any motivation I _could_ scrounge up had to go to my schoolwork. BUT! The semester is done, I have a break now and January will be super chill with just band rehearsals and then spring semester will be (hopefully!) really light. I'm hoping to get back to a more reasonable update schedule after this.  
>  Also thanks to th3rm0pyl43 for beta reading this chapter.

Luke paced his new quarters, unable to tame the agitation writhing in his mind. He could feel his father’s distress, despite that the Sith was trying to hide it from him, and he feared the worst from the conversation with the Emperor. The dark, roiling anger he had felt from Vader had calmed, and Luke could only assume that it had been a show for Palpatine. Which meant that the conversation had ended over ten standard minutes ago, and yet his father still had made no effort to contact him.

 _If the Emperor demanded I be brought to him, would Father just hand me over?_ Luke didn’t think he would, not considering the terms of his vow and his father’s words in the turbolift, but traitorous words were entirely different from traitorous actions, and after 23 years of enslavement to the Emperor, it was possible that Vader would be unable to turn against his master.

Luke shoved those thoughts from his mind. He believed in his father. He _knew_ there was good in him, he had felt it. And even if he hadn’t recanted his desire for Luke to turn, he had at least made it clear that he didn’t want the _Emperor_ to turn him. He would have to cling to that and hope it would be enough.

But his thoughts wouldn’t settle, and he knew he needed to do something constructive to distract himself. His mind was too chaotic to even attempt meditation, and his body was far too wired in any case. He had been confined for the last two days, and while a lack of space to move wasn’t unusual for him as a fighter pilot, at least in his X-wing his _ship_ had freedom of movement. And forced isolation was something entirely different.

Luke’s hand drifted to his lightsaber. The sitting room wasn’t ideal in terms of a training room, but there was enough open space for him to run through his forms. The exercise would help get rid of his excess energy and perhaps also calm his mind.

 _And I should probably get used to moving with this cape,_ he thought, eying the piece of fabric with distaste. He flung it over his shoulder to free his left arm and unclipped his lightsaber from his belt. The familiar weight of the hilt in his hand helped to calm him somewhat, and he closed his eyes before taking a long, slow breath, imagining he was releasing his tension with the exhale of carbon dioxide. It worked only marginally, but it was as good as it was going to get under the circumstances.

Luke ignited his blade and began moving through the forms. He allowed his mind to wander as he slid between stances, relying on muscle memory. It was not the proper way to do this and he knew that he should be paying more attention to his footwork, but he was unable to keep his mental focus on the exercise. Despite this, his body moved gracefully, never missing a step, never overbalancing.

Both Obi-Wan and Yoda had remarked that he seemed to have a propensity for combat and a natural affinity with the lightsaber. Traits he shared with his father, and Yoda had exchanged several concerned and thoughtful glances with Obi-Wan’s ghost over the matter. Luke had not missed them, but he had failed, perhaps, to grasp the full implications of them at the time. Learning the truth of his parentage had opened his eyes to several things, including his mentors’ fears that he would follow his father into darkness.

He was now also acutely aware that he had been trained as a weapon. Obi-Wan’s twist of the truth could have been intended to spare him pain, but letting him believe that Darth Vader had murdered his father had been a sure way to ignite Luke’s desire for revenge. Killing the Sith had been Luke’s goal for three years before he learned the truth, and he could not help but wonder whether Obi-Wan had planned on telling him _before_ he faced Vader the final time. He had, admittedly, rushed off the last time and not given the old Jedi much of a chance to say anything, but Obi-Wan had had plenty of opportunities before that.

 _If I had learned that Vader was my father **after** I killed him…_ Luke gave his lightsaber a more vicious swipe than his current form change demanded. _I would never have forgiven myself._

Luke reined in his anger before it could claim any real hold on him. He knew the truth now, and he _hadn’t_ killed his father. Contemplating the possibility was pointless and would only lead to him resenting his Jedi masters. And in a way, he could understand where they were coming from. They did not believe that Vader could be redeemed, and he _was_ a threat to the Galaxy as long as he remained at the Emperor’s side. Getting rid of Vader would significantly weaken the Empire, both in terms of power and morale. Much as Luke was the poster boy of the Rebellion, Vader was the face of the Empire.

And, apparently, Luke was the only one strong enough to face him.

He could forgive Yoda and Obi-Wan their attempts to forge him into a weapon and train him to kill his father. They had been acting for the greater good of the Galaxy, under the delusion that Vader could never return from the Dark Side. But he would have words with them regarding their decision to keep the truth from him.

Until then, he intended to continue honing his abilities, crafting his already formidable instincts into actual skills. Even if he was no longer fighting Vader, there was still the Emperor to consider. And since Obi-Wan hadn’t had much time to teach him, and Yoda had not had a lightsaber, Luke found himself looking forward to training with his father. He would actually be able to duel with him, provided Vader did not back out for fear of hurting him again.

Bored with the repetitive motions of the exercise and knowing he wasn’t actually achieving anything in his distraction, Luke spun around, twirling his lightsaber in a complicated arc that was more for show than anything. The green blade hummed as it cut through the air in a mesmerizing light show, and he closed his eyes to focus on the _feel_ of the motions rather than watching the blade.

He was not prepared for the sparking crash of his blade encountering another lightsaber. Luke gave a startled cry as the hilt was nearly wrenched from his hand and his eyes flew open to stare at his saber trapped in a blade lock with the red light of his father’s.

“Impressive,” Vader said, disengaging their lightsabers with a delicate twirl of his wrist before deactivating his.

Luke felt his face heat up and he looked down at the floor as he switched off his own blade. He had not sensed Vader enter the room and he kicked himself for his inattentiveness. He did not know how he could have missed the man’s imposing figure, let alone the hiss of his respirator and the heavy press of his Force presence against Luke’s mind.

“How long were you watching?”

“Just long enough to see you abandon your forms.” He paused before admitting, “I never had much patience for them either.”

Luke looked up, grinning. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Vader ignored the jibe. “How much training have you received in lightsaber combat?”

“Obi-Wan didn’t have time to teach me much,” Luke said slowly. He would need to be careful with his answers or he risked betraying Yoda. But his father missed nothing.

“And yet you improved significantly between Cymoon and Bespin.”

Luke set his jaw defiantly. “There were several years between those duels! Plenty of time to practice, and it was _your_ man who trained me to fight in Grakkus’s arena – ”

“Sergeant Kreel,” Vader interrupted, “gave a very detailed report on your progress. I know what he taught you, and I know what you knew before he got to you.” Luke felt his father’s satisfaction at backing him into a corner, even as his annoyance flared at the mention of Luke’s time as an arena slave.

He tried to bluff his way out.

“Well – ”

“Luke.” Vader’s tone brought all his thoughts to a standstill and he snapped his mouth shut. “Who took over your training?”

Luke frowned in mock confusion. “What?” His stubbornness was useless, he knew, but he could not give up Yoda without at least trying to deny knowledge of him.

“Luke,” Vader warned. “I _know_ you had a second master after Kenobi. You could not have progressed as much as you did without the aid of a teacher. You are talented, but not enough to learn so much on your own, not when there are no records of Jedi teaching left.”

Luke sighed. “Are you going to go after them?”

Vader was silent for a long moment as Luke glared at him.

“You will not tell me unless I promise not to,” Vader finally said. “And I cannot force you to tell me. So no, I will leave them alone.” Luke let out his breath in a rush, relief draining the tension from his body. He had not thought that his father would try to rip the information from him, but it was certainly something that was within his power to do.

“Then why do you want to know?”

“Curiosity.” Vader hesitated and then admitted, “And I need to know how much Jedi indoctrination I need to undo.”

Luke laughed once. “Fine. But I will hold you to your promise to leave him alone.”

“And you will at least listen to me if what I tell you contradicts what you have already learned.”

“As long as it’s not Dark Side.”

“We already established that point.”

“Okay. I didn’t agree with everything he said anyways.” Most notably Yoda’s warnings against attachments and his insistence that Vader could never change.

Still Luke hesitated, running his thumb along the hilt of his lightsaber as he built up the courage to betray his teacher. It wasn’t _really_ a betrayal. He had his father’s promise that he wouldn’t go after Yoda. It would be nice not to have to watch his words, to be open about everything he knew and didn’t know. If he didn’t tell him now, he would inevitably slip up sometime in the future, and considering the chagrin he had felt from his father when he agreed to Luke’s terms, he didn’t know that Vader wouldn’t go after him if he refused the deal now.

He took a deep breath. “Yoda,” he admitted, dropping his gaze to the floor under the weight of guilt, despite knowing that no harm would come to the old Jedi from this.

_I’m sorry, Master._

Vader’s flare of rage was stronger than Luke had anticipated. It seared the air around them, crackling like a dry branch in a fire.

“He survived?” he growled, his hands tightening into fists. Luke flinched.

“Apparently.” Luke’s voice was barely a whisper. “Father, please – ”

Vader held up a hand and Luke cut himself off.

“I will uphold my promise,” he ground out. “But it was wise of you to insist on it.”

“Well, I grew up on Tatooine. I learned to make careful deals.”

“You were never meant to be raised there. You were born for greater things.” There was a touch of bitterness in his voice and Force presence and Luke wondered if he was talking about Luke or himself.

“I don’t know. I don’t regret my childhood.” Owen and Beru had done their best. They weren’t his parents, and they had never pretended to be, but they had loved him like he was their own. They had done what they could to give him a life on the bare rock of a planet that was Tatooine. He now understood Owen’s overbearing protectiveness; regardless of whether he had known what had really happened to Anakin Skywalker, the Force-sensitive son of a Jedi would have been in danger from the Empire.

“I could have given you everything.” There was longing behind his words and Vader reached for Luke’s arm but stopped short of touching it, letting his hand fall back to his side. The aborted touch burned, and Luke felt the phantom pressure of his father’s hand on his arm, despite the lack of actual contact.

“But I would have grown up in the Emperor’s shadow. Would you have even been allowed to keep me?”

Vader looked away from him, gripping his lightsaber hilt tightly. “I would have _killed_ him before I let him take you from me.”

Luke saw his opportunity. “Is that what we have to do now?” he asked quietly, trying not to hold his breath as he waited for the answer.

Vader turned back to face him. “Not yet. He commanded me to bring you to him only after you have turned.” The news did not bring as much relief as Luke was expecting.

“What does that mean for us?” He noticed his hands were trembling and he clenched his fists to try and stop it.

 _He won’t force me to turn. We have a deal,_ he reminded himself. But his fears were stronger than his rational mind and his next breath was shaky.

“It means we have time to plan. Luke, I…” Vader paused and Luke could feel his conflict over whatever he was about to say. “I will not make you turn.”

Luke’s heart stuttered. “That was part of our deal,” he said carefully, not daring to hope the statement meant what he thought it did.

“No. I will _never_ force you to turn.”

Luke caught his breath and blinked rapidly, his mind scrambling to process this.

“Father…” he breathed. He gave a short laugh of relief and felt the weight of anxiety lift from his heart. “Thank you.”

_What made him change his mind?_

Luke did not voice his thoughts, knowing it was a question Vader would not answer. Silence fell between them as Vader neither acknowledged his gratitude nor explained his decision. Instead Luke got the impression that he was studying him.

A gentle Force tug on his lightsaber made him grin, and he flipped it over, offering the hilt to his father.

“You could just ask, you know,” he said as Vader took the outstretched weapon. Vader clipped his own to his belt and began examining Luke’s, turning it in his hands and rubbing his thumb against the sleek metal of the hilt.

“Your lightsaber is much more like Kenobi’s than like mine,” Vader said, and Luke felt his disappointment keenly. That disappointment caused a flicker of guilt in Luke, but he pushed it aside. He had contemplated trying to replicate his old lightsaber when he made his new one, but something hadn’t felt right about it, something about stepping out of his father’s shadow and becoming his own person, regardless of whether he was thinking about his father as Anakin Skywalker, Jedi hero, or Darth Vader, Imperial Sith Lord. Now, of course, it was impossible for Luke to separate the two in his mind. They were the same person, and he could see hints of who his father had been in who he was now.

But choosing to build his saber _not_ based on his father’s was his way of saying “I’m not Anakin Skywalker, don’t ask me to live up to his legacy,” as well as “I’m not Darth Vader, don’t assume I’ll repeat his mistakes.” Mostly to himself, but also to his mentors. But this wasn’t something he wanted to share with his father.

“Well, all I had to go off of when I was making it were his notes.” He shrugged. It was true enough. “And it fits my hand better. I’m a lot smaller than you, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I did notice.” Vader left it at that and returned his attention to the lightsaber. He stepped back and ignited it, keeping the green blade well away from both of them as he gave it an experimental swipe.

“This is well made. You have become very powerful indeed.” Luke grinned as Vader lowered his shields and sent a surge of pride at him. He dropped his eyes to stare at his feet as they kicked at the carpet, both pleased and embarrassed by his father’s praise.

“But I’d like to be better as using it. I may have improved, but as I said, I haven’t had much formal training with the lightsaber,” he hinted, hoping for an invitation to spar. Luke felt a flicker of amusement from Vader. He deactivated Luke’s saber and handed it back to him.

“Rest assured, I will not neglect that aspect of your training,” Vader said. “But we do not have time at the moment. The _Executor_ needs to rejoin the rest of the fleet as soon as possible, and I need to attend to several military matters I have been ignoring in the wake of your… capture.” Vader seemed hesitant to use the word and Luke resisted the urge to flinch at it. But the truth remained that while Luke had already begun to feel comfortable around his father, he had not chosen to be here. If given the opportunity to leave –

Luke stopped that thought, unsure where it was leading. _Would_ he leave? Could he possibly abandon his father now, after finally regaining him? He was still Darth Vader, still had not renounced the Dark Side, but he had accepted Luke’s refusal to turn and that had to count for something. And, as much danger as it put himself and his father in, he could do some good here. Vader’s words above the reactor shaft on Bespin still sang in his mind sometimes. Even if it had been meant as a lure to draw him in, even through the haze of confusion and pain Luke had felt truth in Vader’s statement. He could destroy the Emperor. And now he was in a position to get close enough to do it, to tear the Empire apart from the inside.

 _No,_ Luke decided. _I would not leave now even if I could._

It was a hard truth to swallow. He felt a sting of guilt as he knew he was now willfully abandoning the Alliance. He was abandoning his friends in favor of his father. But they would understand, wouldn’t they, when they learned his goal? He was not a _traitor_ , he was still on their side. He was just… going undercover. His mouth twisted into a wry smile as he remembered Wedge asking him about that very thing before he left.

And as much as Luke was disappointed that he would not get a lesson in lightsaber combat now, he knew there would be plenty of other chances. Realistically, he knew that his father could not abandon his other duties just to pay attention to him.

“Are those sensitive military matters?” Luke asked, redirecting his thoughts back to the current conversation.

“Yes,” Vader growled, but there was no anger behind the sound. It felt almost… playful? Teasing, maybe? “For now. There would be a lot of questions if I brought you with me before your identity was revealed.”

“So I’m stuck here?” Luke had expected this, of course, and Vader _had_ warned him that he would be confined to his quarters at times, but it was still annoying now that it was a reality. He had not been “sent to his room,” as it were, since he was a child.

“Are you uncomfortable being left alone?” There was genuine concern slipping along the bond.

“Please,” Luke scoffed. “ _You’re_ the one who’s reluctant to let me out of your sight!” He crossed his arms, pretending to be annoyed. In truth, he was secretly more than a little pleased with the amount of attention he had been receiving from his father. It would be difficult not to appreciate that kind of single-minded, focused attention, even if it was a little overbearing. “You haven’t stopped hovering since you retrieved me.”

“Is that why you blocked me from your mind?” Vader’s tone was unreadable, but Luke sensed the sudden increase of tension in his father’s body. Obviously this was something that had been weighing on Vader’s mind. Luke had been hoping he would forget about it, unwilling as he was to talk about his insecurities with his father.

“I…” he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. Even having just made up his mind that this was where he would choose to be, it was still going to feel weird for a long while. “I’m not used to this.”

“Not used to what?”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, forgetting that he was trying to break himself of that habit.

“I don’t know. All of this.” He gestured vaguely, unsure how to convey exactly what he meant. “Being here, our deal, our bond, _having a father_ – ” He cut himself off, trying to tame his suddenly raging emotions. He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths and releasing them slowly, grateful for Vader’s silence, grateful that the man was allowing him space and time to collect himself. It was a consideration he never would have thought Vader capable of, before today.

Almost a year. It had been almost a year since Bespin, since the truth had destroyed Luke’s understanding of the universe and rebuilt his world into something simultaneously brighter and darker. The _concept_ of having a father he had accepted several months after the revelation, but the reality of it was still settling in, now that he was with him and likely to stay with him for… who knew how long. And the thought that soon the rest of the Galaxy would know, that Leia and Wedge and eventually Han would _know_ that he was the son of Darth Vader, the son of the Sith who had tortured two of them, the son of the second-in-command of the Empire that had destroyed all of their lives… it was difficult to come to terms with. The only consolation, of course, was that he would be able to explain the full truth to them.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, opening his eyes to stare up at his father. “I think it’s just hitting me, what I’m doing. It’s… overwhelming.” One corner of his lips twitched up into a tiny embarrassed smile.

“That is understandable.” Vader paused for a moment, and Luke could feel his eyes on him. Then the impression of a sigh came across their link. “As for our bond… Force bonds normally take years to become as strong as ours. Training bonds between masters and padawans need to be cultivated. I can only assume the strength of ours is the product of blood. It _should_ have developed naturally as you grew, but because we were… separated, you never had time to become used to it.”

This was straying too close to Luke’s earlier fears for comfort, but now that Vader had brought the topic up, he could not help but voice his doubts. “So it’s natural? For me to be so connected to you?” He felt foolish just for saying the words, and heat flooded his face. He still could not understand how he had developed such a strong attachment to Vader in such a short amount of time.

Vader’s hand came up, and he lightly brushed the back of it against Luke’s cheek. The motion startled Luke. It was such a casual touch, and _very_ gentle. There was none of Vader’s typical harshness in the gesture. And it served no purpose. All his physical contact with his father up to this point had been for protection, or guidance, or examination of injuries. Or at least had been disguised as such. Even Vader’s fiddling with his clothing had had a surface reason. This seemed to be simply for the purpose of touching him.

“I do not know for sure.” Vader’s voice when he spoke was quiet. “I have nothing to compare this to, and this sort of bond was not something the Jedi had much information on.”

Luke frowned.

“Why not?”

“Jedi were not allowed to have attachments.” Bitter anger swelled in Vader’s mind and Luke winced. “Thus having children was… not something that generally happened to Jedi.”

_Obi-Wan never said anything about this. He made it seem like it wasn’t odd for my father to have had a child. Though I suppose it **does** explain some people’s reactions when I said I was the son of a Jedi…_

“I wasn’t supposed to exist?” Luke asked cautiously, hoping for more information about the circumstances of his birth. That, along with the identity of his mother and the reason for his father’s fall, was the thing he was most curious about.

Vader growled. “You were not a mistake!”

Luke’s heart skipped a beat at the ferocity of the statement. It eased a small ache he hadn’t realized he had been carrying since he had learned the truth of his parentage.

“That… wasn’t what I was implying, Father.”

Vader looked away from him, and Luke sighed when he allowed the silence to stretch. Obviously this wasn’t a topic he was willing to discuss. He was about to tell his father to just go deal with whatever military matters needed his attention when Vader spoke.

“You may have been unplanned,” he said slowly, “but you were never… _unwanted_.”

Luke dropped his gaze to the floor, blinking sudden moisture away from his eyes. “Well, that’s always good to hear,” he murmured.

“Luke, if I had known…” Vader took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He slipped his fingers beneath Luke’s chin and tilted his head up until he met Vader’s gaze. “I would have torn the Galaxy apart planet by planet to find you if I had known you had survived.”

Having grown up as an orphan, even with a loving aunt and uncle, the vehement assertion that he was _wanted_ was a bit heady. Among the taunts about being the son of a slave and an unknown woman had been equally vicious jabs about his orphan status. Many nights during his young childhood it had taken Beru hours to calm him, reassure him that he had not been intentionally abandoned, that she and Owen loved him and his parents would have too.

The moisture that had been accumulating in the corners of his eyes threatened to spill down his cheeks, and he blinked furiously. He would _not_ cry in front of his father. He twisted his head away from Vader’s touch, turning away as he fought to get his reactions under control.

“Luke?” Vader’s hand fell on his shoulder, and Luke resisted the gentle pressure his father exerted on him, trying to turn him back to face him.

“Why did you think I was dead?” Luke asked, his voice a near whisper.

Vader’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft skin on the front of Luke’s shoulder almost hard enough to hurt. This was the big question, the why that was somehow tangled up with his father’s fall, if the timeline Luke had constructed in his head was in any way accurate. Darth Vader had risen with the Empire, as far as anyone could tell, and Luke had been born that same day. Maybe it was a prompt from the Force, or simply his own intuition, but he _knew_ there was some connection there. Though perhaps it was simply that he had been removed from his father’s influence for his own protection after Anakin fell.

“You were… hidden from me. I was told your mother had died before she had given birth. Obviously, this was untrue.”

“Who told you?”

“The Emperor,” Vader ground out. His fingers twitched, again tightening his grip on Luke’s shoulder and Luke bit his tongue to keep from crying out at the momentary sharp pain. “He lied to me, he told me I – ” He cut himself off and Luke finally turned to regard his father.

“What did he tell you?”

Vader released his shoulder and turned his head away from him.

“It does not matter.” His shields were locked down tightly, cutting Luke off from any impression of his father’s emotions. Faint unease stirred in his stomach. He remembered the brief flash of his father’s memory in the hangar bay of the _Subjugator_ , his mother lying unconscious on the ground. He had been pulled from the memory very quickly and it had been difficult to tell with her loose clothing, but she could have been pregnant. Luke felt nauseous as he realized he had a very good idea of what the Emperor had told his father.

“How did she die?” he asked quietly.

“This is not something I wish to discuss.” His tone was sharp, biting even through the vocoder, and he clenched his hands into fists at his side.

“The Emperor told you you killed her, didn’t he?” Luke’s heart was in his throat, making it difficult to breathe, and he steeled himself for Vader’s reaction. But his father said nothing and that was confirmation enough. Luke closed his eyes and forced himself to take a breath, letting it out slowly.

“What happened?”

Vader was silent for a long moment before he turned away from Luke completely.

“I… never meant to hurt her. I never wanted to. She… betrayed – I thought she…” He shook his head, his stammered words grinding to a halt.

Luke watched his father’s back cautiously. His old fear of Darth Vader threatened to resurface and he tried to fight it down. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known that his father was capable of violence, capable of hurting people close to him. He flexed his own prosthetic hand out of habit. But it was different, wasn’t it, knowing that his father had attacked his mother? Hurt someone he had loved enough to break the rules of the Order he had sworn his life to?

For a moment, Luke teetered on the edge, his mind replaying every horror story he had ever heard of Darth Vader’s atrocities against every memory he had of his father’s gentleness with him. Against his hope that his father could come back to the light. He had to cling to the belief that he could save his father, or else face the idea that he had made a terrible mistake in allying himself with him and had doomed the Alliance to failure. With that belief, that decision to bring his father back, had to come forgiveness.

“You didn’t kill her,” Luke said softly. “You couldn’t have, or I would be dead.”

Luke approached his father slowly, moving to stand in front of him. He reached out to touch his father’s arm, but Vader jerked it away the moment his fingers brushed against the leather of the sleeve.

“You should be running from me.”

Luke crossed his arms. “I’m not abandoning you. Whatever you’ve done, Father, it’s done. You can’t change it. And I haven’t come this far just to back out now. I’m not going to give up on you.”

“Luke – ” Whatever Vader had intended to say was interrupted by the insistent beeping of his comlink. He turned away from Luke to answer it and Luke tried to bite back his disappointment at losing the opportunity to hear his father’s response. The Sith would take this distraction as an excuse to avoid continuing the conversation and Luke knew his father would not be so open about this topic again for a long time. He could not help but feel guilty for bringing up his mother, even as indirectly as he had. As curious as he was, he knew his father’s reluctance to speak of her, and now he understood at least part of the reason why. Whether or not Vader’s actions had contributed to her death, he had believed she had died at his hand for over twenty years and with her, their son. The weight of that… Luke’s thoughts drifted to Han, encased in carbonite because of him. His guilt over that was difficult to bear, and Han was still alive. He could only imagine how exponentially worse it would have been if Han had died.

“I am needed elsewhere.” Luke was startled from his thoughts when Vader spoke. “As I said, I have matters to attend to.” His voice was flat, no attempt to fight the regulation of his vocoder. Any emotional vulnerability that Vader might have had moments before was gone, locked away behind a mask more impenetrable than the one he wore over his face. “Stay here.”

Luke nodded even as Vader turned to leave. He watched him walk away, the pang of loss in his chest more from the sudden emotional distance he felt between them than the rapidly increasing physical distance. He could not allow his father to go without offering some sort of apology or reassurance. He did not want to lose the progress they had gained, could not bear to see his father close himself off again. There was too much at stake, both for them personally and the entire Galaxy.

“Father,” he called. Vader paused in the doorway but did not turn. Luke took a breath, unsure what he could possibly say to convey what he was feeling. His emotions were a tangled mess, his mind still reeling from the whiplash of their conversation. But his lips moved of their own accord, his lungs pushing air past vocal cords to form words he knew were true even as he said them. “I won’t leave you.”

For a moment, Vader remained motionless, and even his harsh breathing seemed muted. Then a minute amount of tension drained from his shoulders, and his hands relaxed at his sides, his fingers slowly uncurling from their tight fists.

“I know, my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this chapter was going to have Luke's conversation with Leia in it, but it got away from me and then it reached a natural climax and I didn't want to force it to keep going after that. So that conversation has been moved to the next chapter. (again. I'm really sorry this keeps happening...)


	11. Vader's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, we have the long-awaited conversation between Luke and Leia. We also get the first bit of Piett's POV, and there's a Rebel spy that might be causing some problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _**SO**_ sorry about how long this chapter took to post. Life happened, and I've been burnt out from my classes last semester. But, here's a ridiculously long chapter to make up for it. I really hope you guys enjoy it. It's the longest chapter by far, and there's quite a bit of angst in it. Excuse any typos, I literally stayed up all night to finish it and not all of it has been proof-read.  
>  Shoutout to my beta reader, miriannemiri, who has put up with me griping about this chapter and has helped me through quite a few sticking points. She's the best.
> 
> Also, if you haven't read my one-shot [Interview with a Sith Lord](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747338), you might want to give it a look, as it will add some depth to some of the exchanges in this chapter.

_I know, my son._

Luke caught his breath at hearing those words. Still such a foreign, if welcome, concept, especially with the possessive in front of it. He had been called “son” by many adults throughout his life, but Vader was the only one who had called him “my son,” indeed he was the only one with the right, and yet Luke could count on one hand the times he had been addressed as such.

The door swished shut behind Vader, leaving Luke standing alone in his room. The room felt larger, emptier without his father’s overbearing presence and the pressure of his consciousness in the Force. Luke’s “bodyguards” were still there, a small part of Vader’s awareness that was constantly focused on him even if his attention was directed elsewhere. Maintained through their bond? However he managed it, it was… comforting, somehow.

Even when his father hid his emotions, except for the time in the _Executor_ ’s hallway when he had closed himself off completely, Luke was still able to feel his father’s presence, know that he was alright. And it was proof that somewhere, Vader cared about him. Even if he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, admit it. Even if he couldn’t say it or show it in any conventional manner. The concern that radiated from the tendrils wrapped around him was sharper now, different than it had been when it was his physical health Vader had been worried about. Uncertainty about his intentions, perhaps? Despite Luke’s insistence that he would not leave, and despite Vader’s acknowledgement of that insistence, it seemed Vader could not accept that Luke wanted to stay. And Luke could not fault him that.

His own thoughts on the matter would not settle. He turned the new revelations over in his mind, trying to make sense of both them and his reactions to them. Any rational being would have turned and run. He knew his response had been… overly accepting and he suspected the Force had had a hand in it. The warnings and uneasiness he had felt before his mission to Sluis Van had dissipated with the shift in the Force created by his vow, and even now he could feel its gentle reassurance that he had made the right decision. Whatever the Force’s plans for his life, it seemed he was on a track it was pleased with.

Luke was suddenly tired, emotionally drained by everything that had happened in the last two days. Had it really only been two days since he had been captured? It felt like a lifetime.

He drifted over to the black leather couch on the other side of the room and collapsed onto it, grateful for the opportunity to sit after standing for so long. The couch was comfortable, the leather smooth under his hands and the cushions far softer than he had anticipated. He settled into its welcoming embrace and let his mind wander.

He needed… time. Time to get his head around everything that had happened, time to come to terms with what _would_ happen. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He wasn’t _regretting_ it, not by a long shot. He would stay, he would help overthrow the Emperor, he would save his father. He cared about his father, even with the added revelation that Vader might have contributed to his mother’s death. Luke needed to know more, needed to understand better what had happened, but Vader’s guilt and shame had been obvious in his stammered reply, even if his emotions had been hidden behind tight shields. Whatever else, it was clear he had loved her.

_And yet that wasn’t enough to save her._

Luke shoved the errant thought aside, even as he became hyperaware of the subtle textural differences between his skin and the synthskin on his hands pressed to his face. He dropped his hands into his lap and leaned back into the couch, staring blankly at the shuttered viewport in front of him.

He really needed to get a grip on his spiraling emotions. Thinking in circles wasn’t going to get him anywhere, and besides, he had already made his decision. He recalled the feeling of being bound to his father by his vow, the surge in the Force as destinies shifted and changed. For better or worse, he had pledged his allegiance to Vader, if not to the Empire, and then reaffirmed it with his promise not to leave. It was pointless to second-guess himself now.

Luke kicked off his boots before tucking his knees up against his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. Despite that the soles had never stepped on any surface other than the immaculate durasteel of the _Executor_ and were therefore completely clean, years of ingrained habits prevented him from allowing them to touch the furniture.

His mind wasn’t any calmer than it had been before his conversation with Vader, in fact it was probably even more tumultuous now, but Luke decided to attempt to meditate again. His body was no longer thrumming with excess energy, the lightsaber drills having at least done that much for him, and he hoped this time he would be able to concentrate.

He closed his eyes and reached out for the enveloping light of the Force. It responded quickly to his call, warm, welcoming, comforting. It felt like an embrace, and though Luke had been in constant contact with it since he had woken, to varying degrees of attentiveness, it was like coming home to an old friend he hadn’t seen in months. It surrounded him in calming light and brushed against his mind in a gesture that felt like his aunt’s gentle hand pushing his bangs off his forehead, soothing the chaos of his thoughts. He relaxed, tension draining from his body – 

The dark tendrils of his father’s Force presence shuddered and constricted around him and Luke’s eyes flew open as he gasped, his deep connection with the Force lost.

 _“Father?”_ Luke asked, his concern pulsing through their bond.

 _“You are… very bright, my son,”_ Vader’s mental voice answered, a whisper of apology in the tone if not in the words. _“I am no longer used to feeling the Light Side so strongly.”_

This was going to be a problem, if he couldn’t even meditate without disturbing his father. Luke sighed and slumped over to lie on the couch. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. It was the same uniform gray as everywhere else on this ship. He had a sudden impulse to take a can of spray paint to it. Something obnoxious, maybe phoenix red. He smirked at the petty rebellion of the thought of painting the Rebel Starbird on the ceiling of a room on the flagship of the Imperial Navy.

One of the tendrils brushed his cheek lightly, an echo of Vader’s own physical touch earlier, and Luke returned his wandering thoughts to his father.

_“Is it going to bother you?”_

Vader hesitated for a long moment and Luke could feel his uncertainty and consideration of the question.

 _“I was simply not prepared for it,”_ he finally said. _“It will be fine.”_

There was doubt in his voice and Luke frowned. _“Are you sure?”_

_“I do not wish to deprive you of your meditation.”_

Luke raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t an answer. He sighed again, skeptical of his father’s honesty, but not about to call him on it. Besides, it was permission to continue and he knew he really needed this, even if he’d rather not cause his father any discomfort. He sat back up, this time tucking his legs beneath him.

 _“Okay, I’m going to continue,”_ he warned Vader. He received a brief acknowledgement and felt his father’s attention turn elsewhere, probably to whatever meeting he’d been summoned to.

His “bodyguards” had relaxed back to their normal hold on him, no longer exerting an uncomfortable pressure on his body. Luke monitored his connection to his father for a moment longer before sinking back into the Force. It responded just as quickly as it had the first time, seeming almost eager to pick up where they’d left off, but Luke was more cautious. He wanted to keep tabs on his father, make sure he was really okay with this…

The Force tugged on Luke’s awareness, gentle but persistent, dragging his attention away from Vader, and after a brief moment of trying to fight it, he surrendered, letting the Force pull him down into its calming depths.

~*~

Vader stopped in the antechamber to Luke’s quarters, after the door slid shut between him and his son. How could Luke _possibly_ –

He closed his eyes and pressed one hand against the wall, leaning on it for support. His shields presented a blank, emotionless wall to his son, but behind those walls, his mind spun erratically. He could still hear Padmé’s breathless gasps over the roar of his anger, still see her clutching her throat and begging him to let go as he did nothing but tighten his grip… still feel Luke’s fingers brushing his arm when he reached out to him.

Luke’s calm acceptance of Vader’s admission baffled him. The boy should have backed away, looked on him in horror and disgust, demanded release from his vow. Instead, that he had approached him, reassured him, _touched him_ … Vader’s arm burned, for all that it was impossible, considering the prosthetics, with the memory of the warmth of Luke’s hand. His son was too forgiving, and for all that Vader was pleased Luke did not seem to hate him, he did not understand.

 _I won’t leave you_.

How could Luke insist such a thing? After everything Vader had done, not just to Luke, but also to his friends and the Galaxy as a whole, how could he possibly desire to stay with him? And still Luke did not know even _half_ of the things Vader had done. How much could Luke stand to learn before he decided Vader was beyond the point of forgiveness? For surely that moment would come. Vader would reveal some past action that would push Luke over the edge and he would lose him.

Vader growled low in his throat. He would not allow that to happen. He _could not_. Finding out his child was alive after twenty years of believing him dead had renewed his sense of purpose, his desire to live. Then the boy’s foolish stunt on Bespin had nearly destroyed both of them. The complete rejection had stung. Luke’s willingness to die rather than face the truth of his parentage and his birthright had stripped Vader of his newfound hopes for freedom from the Emperor, for a life with his son at his side. Now he had another opportunity, and he would do everything in his power to keep it. He could not bear to lose Luke, not for a third time.

_I will stand by your side, Father, against the Emperor._

At least they shared a common goal now, even if they disagreed on what to do _after_. Vader knew Luke would stand by his word, his vow. The boy was nothing if not honest, and even if that was all that kept him here in the wake of this, it would have to be enough for now.

~*~

Neither the _Subjugator_ nor the _Executor_ had yet broken their orbits of Tatooine, but Jael could not afford to wait any longer. He needed to contact Alliance High Command as soon as possible. He had ditched his stolen guard uniform and fled the detention block of the _Subjugator_ the moment Vader had left the ship with Ozzel in tow, fearing discovery. He had not been assigned to this part of the ship, but when the rumor mill had informed him that a Rebel Jedi had been caught, he knew he had to risk his own cover to ascertain the prisoner’s identity and attempt a rescue if it _was_ Skywalker.

But by the time he had managed to infiltrate the detention block and take out the actual guards, Skywalker had already been moved and the former Lieutenant-Commander had been arrested. Then Darth Vader had shown up to collect the officer, something that Jael had not been prepared for. Every second the Sith had stood in the guard room had been another moment closer to being found out. But his relief at Vader’s departure had been short lived, considering the nature of the conversation he had overheard between him and Ozzel.

Nothing had been explicitly stated, but so much of what Vader had said had made Jael uneasy. His words added to the fact that Skywalker had been moved from both the detention block and the medbay to a secure guest room the moment he was capable of it suggested that Skywalker might be an Imperial spy.

And if that were true, Jael needed to let Mon Mothma know immediately.

~*~

Piett stood as Darth Vader entered the conference room. He was only peripherally aware of the other officers doing the same, as his attention was focused solely on his commander. He watched him warily, waiting until he could judge his mood before deciding how to approach the meeting’s topics. He had taken a calculated risk by comming Lord Vader, but his commander had been late, and while that was not entirely unusual, Piett had grown tired of fielding questions from the other officers. Many of them were becoming antsy to return the _Executor_ to her post, confused by the sudden departure from Endor and the lack of information about _why_. And Piett knew that the boy, Luke Skywalker, would be providing Darth Vader with a distraction.

Skywalker was a Rebel, and the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, unless Piett and most of the members of Death Squadron had missed their guess, yet he had been escorted to the bridge unbound, with Darth Vader’s hand on his shoulder. The boy had displayed no fear in the Sith’s presence, even going so far as to glare at him and receiving nothing but a, dare he label it _affectionate_ , pat on the shoulder for it. Skywalker was an enigma, and one that Piett was unsure if he wanted to unravel.

Darth Vader reached the head of the conference room table. His helmet turned the barest shade towards Piett and the Admiral felt the Sith’s eyes on him, always an unnerving experience, even when he _hadn’t_ just summoned him via his personal comm away from a highly desired, recently captured prisoner for a meeting that was likely to be just as annoying as it was boring. Even though Darth Vader had done a rather thorough job vetting and weeding through his officers, half of them were still irritating and moronic, mostly those that had risen to their ranks through family names and money, and the Emperor’s favor, rather than any military prowess or competence. And Piett knew that Lord Vader had even less tolerance for stupidity and incompetence than he did.

Darth Vader took his place standing next to the chair at the head of the table that was technically his. He never sat at these meetings, and everyone took him reaching his traditional spot as their cue to sit. Even though Darth Vader was not one to encourage such ceremony, the amount of respect his men had for him dictated that they follow standard procedure. Unless he specifically told them not to, as he had with welcoming committees when he landed in his hangar bay. If Darth Vader was annoyed by them standing for him, it was an annoyance he did not allow to show.

Before Piett could say anything, Darth Vader turned to him. “I trust you have a good reason for summoning me away from my – guest.”

“Uh, yes, my Lord,” Piett said, trying very hard not to think about what word his commander had _wanted_ to call Skywalker. The slight hesitation before “guest” had not slipped past the Admiral’s notice. He glanced down at his notes on his datapad. “We have received reports of Rebel activity near Sullust and the regional governor has requested…” he trailed off as Darth Vader held up his hand for silence.

“We do not have time to deal with rumors of Rebel activity, Admiral.” There were several low murmurs of surprise in the room at this declaration, but Piett’s mind flickered to Skywalker. It really _had_ been the boy Lord Vader was chasing, not the Rebellion as a whole. “If the governor cannot handle it on his own, perhaps he needs to be _replaced_.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Piett said. He typed up a note to have someone send a response to the governor. He would not want to be in the man’s boots when he received the warning.

“Was that all?” Darth Vader growled, an undercurrent of threat in his tone. Piett swallowed nervously. His own secure position, the product of a somewhat treasonous bargain with the Sith Lord, was not enough to prevent him from feeling a healthy dose of fear when his commander was annoyed. He opened his mouth to reply but Captain Venka spoke before he could.

“My Lord, the Admiral and some of the other officers were… _concerned_ about our unexplained departure from Endor, considering our orders to protect the project. Especially if there is Rebel activity on such a nearby system.”

“Captain Venka,” Piett said, biting back his irritation, “I would never presume to question Lord Vader’s orders.” He knew Venka resented him for delaying his promotion to captain after his own field promotion following the death of Admiral Ozzel, but he had never anticipated the man attempting to sabotage him in front of Darth Vader. It wouldn’t work, of course, but that sort of insubordination was not something Piett was willing to tolerate on his ship.

“Of course not, Admiral.” Venka gave him a thin smile before his eyes darted over to land on Darth Vader, who was still standing motionless at the head of the table, his thumbs tucked into his belt. He seemed to be ignoring the current conversation, or else was too interested in seeing how it played out to interfere. “Your pandering and flattery are the only reasons – ”

“Think _very_ carefully before you finish that sentence,” Piett said icily. But Lord Vader had still not moved or reacted in any sort of visible way, though Piett thought he could feel a slight chill prickling the back of his neck, and it seemed to embolden Venka.

“You rose to your rank though sheer luck, and everyone here knows it.”

Piett raised an eyebrow and glanced around the room at the rest of the gathered officers. None of them were looking at him and Venka, or even paying attention, it seemed, though Piett knew that every one of them was listening intently. The news of this would spread through most of the ship by the end of the day, and the story would probably have escalated to include a fist fight at the very least by the time it reached the lowest decks of the ship. He was not sure if that would hurt or help his reputation. He supposed it would depend on who the winner of this little contest was.

“Even if that were true,” Piett said, holding tightly to his composure through pure effort of will, “I would not have been able to retain my position through ‘sheer luck,’ as you put it.”

“But how did you even attain your position in the first place? You spent the first decade of your service doing nothing more than hunting _pirates_ in the Outer Rim. Whose pocket did you have to line to get off your backwater home planet anyways?”

“If you think,” Piett seethed, “that I bought my position with anything but skill, loyalty, and hard work, you are _mistaken_.” He had not spent his early career fighting against the rampant corruption of his home world only to turn around and make use of the same fraudulent system to further his own goals.

“No one from a Rim world like Axxila gets this high up without paying a few people off,” Venka scoffed.

Piett stood, gloved palms slamming down on the conference table as he leaned across it to glare at Venka.

“Do not _dare_ to suggest that I bribed my way here!” Piett’s voice was a snarl, his carefully cultivated Core accent shredding away to expose his natural, rougher Rim accent. He didn’t much care, at the moment. “I fought for every _scrap_ of recognition I earned. I don’t have a fancy family name to pad my list of accomplishments with, but least I can say I got to where I am on my own merit, _Venka_!” He narrowed his eyes at the man, whose face paled at the threat implicit in Piett dropping his title. It did not stop him for long, however, and Piett was momentarily astonished at the captain’s bravery. Or idiocy.

“Your lack of a family name is why you shouldn’t have had the connections to make it this far,” Venka retorted. “Skill alone is never – ”

“That is _enough_!” Darth Vader roared. Piett flinched at the unexpected interjection from his commander. He had been too focused on Venka to even pay attention to Darth Vader’s presence behind him, since the man had seemed content to let the situation play out. Now his anger simmered in the room and Piett could feel the cold nipping disappointedly at him.

The Sith raised his hand, fingers curled in a gesture everyone who served under him knew well and knew to fear. Piett breathed quickly, testing his throat even though he knew it wouldn’t be him Darth Vader was killing. Venka’s hand reached up towards his throat in a futile effort to ward off Lord Vader’s attack. But everyone knew that no amount of gasping or scrabbling at his throat would be enough to break the Sith’s invisible hold.

Piett had never experienced the sensation himself, something he was immensely grateful for, though he had been present for the execution of countless officers, his own predecessor being the most notable. It was profoundly disturbing to watch a man fight against something he could not see or touch and to eventually succumb. He had not been particularly sorry to see the late Admiral Ozzel go. The man had been an arrogant and insufferable moron, and his death had not been unexpected. Captain Needa had been a waste, and one that Piett still harbored slight annoyance for his commander over. He should not have been held responsible for the loss of the _Millennium Falcon_ due to the Rebels’ unexpected ingenuity.

Piett pressed his lips together in a thin line, holding back another protest. Venka could be a pretentious idiot, but he was a decent officer. But Piett dared not interfere. He could not appear to undermine Lord Vader’s authority, nor did he want to risk turning that fury upon himself.

Venka was beginning to slump down in his chair when Darth Vader’s hand suddenly dropped and the captain gasped in a breath. He began coughing, but Piett’s attention was fixed on his commander. He had taken half a step back, his head turned to the side as though listening to something only he could hear, and Piett was reminded of his suspicions that silent communication had passed between Darth Vader and Skywalker on the bridge. Had Skywalker somehow just saved Captain Venka’s life? Why would the Rebel who destroyed the Death Star care about the death of a solitary Imperial officer? More importantly, why would Darth Vader _listen to him_?

No. Piett shook his head slightly. He did not want to try to work this one out. He would learn, in time, if that’s what his commander wished. In the meantime, it was better for his safety, and his sanity, if he did not know.

Darth Vader spoke again, the slight chill of anger still in his voice. “I am the one responsible for removing the Admiral from the obscurity of the Axxilan Antipirate Fleet and assigning him to the Death Squadron. Do you presume to accuse _me_ of accepting bribes, Captain?”

Venka, who had not yet recovered his breath or his voice, shook his head weakly.

“Good.” Darth Vader swept past them to the door, passing closely behind Piett as he did so, close enough that his cape brushed against his legs. He paused at the door and spoke over his shoulder. “Set course to return to Endor immediately.”

The door swishing shut behind him was the loudest sound in the conference room after Lord Vader left. Captain Venka folded his arms on the table and dropped his head onto them, his shoulders rising with each deep breath he dragged into his lungs.

“Captain Venka, you should visit the medbay,” Piett advised, breaking the silence in the room. Venka raised his head to look at Piett across the table. The expression on his face was unreadable, something between fear, relief, and shame. He opened his mouth to reply, but Piett held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Don’t try to speak.”

Piett turned to another of the officers. “Lieutenant Kallic, escort Captain Venka to the medbay immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Kallic helped Venka to stand and walked him to the door. Piett watched them go, unsure how he felt about everything that had just happened. He had never seen Lord Vader release a man after deciding to kill them. And while he was relieved not to have to witness yet another execution, and glad he would not have to choose a new captain, he hoped this incident would not inflame Venka’s hatred of him.

And whatever Darth Vader had said, Piett knew that he had attacked Venka at least partially to defend him. Even considering their deal, that was unnerving.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Piett said. He tugged at the hem of his tunic to straighten it. “Everyone return to your posts.” He headed for the door himself, not bothering to wait for everyone else to move. He had a ship to run.

~*~

Luke felt Vader approaching this time. Now that Luke was paying attention to his surroundings, it was impossible to miss the dark nova in the Force that was his father. Vader’s presence was roiling with irritation, but Luke was fairly certain it was not directed at him.

He ignored him when he entered the room, still half immersed in the Force and unwilling to leave its cleansing Light any sooner than he needed to. Even with the interruption of his father’s murder attempt, his time spent meditating had significantly calmed him and he felt at peace with the events of the last few days. He did not want to lose that.

Vader was not so patient. “Luke.” His irritation bled into his voice and Luke sighed. Perhaps he had been wrong, and his father _was_ annoyed with him.

“Are you upset I stopped you from killing that officer?” Luke asked, wanting to get this part of the conversation out of the way. He moved so he was leaning with his forearms braced on the back of the couch, looking at his father as he stood in the doorway.

“If I had wanted him dead, he would be dead,” Vader replied.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I do not need, nor do I desire, to discuss my methods of command with you.” Vader crossed his arms over his chest, and Luke fought back a smile. His father did not want to admit that he had restrained his anger at Luke’s request.

“So you’re _not_ upset with me?”

“Luke, I told you before that you would know if I was upset with you.”

 _Right._ Luke sighed. He hoped he would never have to find out what it was like to have Vader’s anger directed at him, but at the same time, it would be nice to _know_ , so he could stop wondering every time he felt his father’s rage. Vader hadn’t been _angry_ during their fight on Cymoon-1, and even if he had been, Luke’s training had been negligible at that point, not enough to allow him to properly feel Vader’s emotions in the Force.

Vader dropped his arms and took several steps closer. “If I had really wanted Captain Venka dead, I would not have let your pleas stop me.”

“What did he do?”

“That is none of your concern.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Sensitive military matters?” When Vader made no move to deny it, Luke scoffed. “You know you won’t be able to use that excuse for very much longer. Once you claim me as your son and heir, I will be _expected_ to be involved in military matters.”

That thought sent a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation coiling in Luke’s stomach. He was not looking forward to fighting against the Alliance, even if it was in appearance only, and he was still uncertain how he felt about the Galaxy knowing of their blood relation, but it was worth it, to be with his father and to be acknowledged as his father’s son. One thing Vader had over Luke’s perfect childhood visions of his father, in addition to being real and alive, was that he could actually accept Luke as his son, and that acceptance was not just a part of Luke’s elaborate daydreams.

Luke looked at his father, his eyes taking in the harsh lines of the mask and the cold detachment of the armour, and he was struck again by the incongruous knowledge that he loved his father. As imperfect as he was, as much as Luke had despaired at learning the truth, despite the complications and the pain of the situation they had found themselves in, he knew he would not trade his lost, broken, _living_ father for anything or anybody else in the Galaxy. If given the opportunity, he would not go back to his idealized ignorance. He had a chance now, to know his father, to save his father, and he was going to take it.

“I believe I need to uphold part of our deal before I am allowed to claim you,” Vader said, interrupting Luke’s thoughts. He pulled a small comlink out of a pouch on his belt and held it up for Luke to see.

“You’re letting me contact Leia now?” he asked. He sat up, feeling a grin start to spread across his face. It had been far too long since he had spoken to her, even if it had only been a few days. And though she wasn’t likely to be happy about his news, he knew she needed to hear it from his own mouth rather than learn at the same time as the rest of the Galaxy.

“Yes,” Vader replied. Their bond sparked with anxiety and it took Luke a moment to realize it wasn’t his. His smile faded.

“Father, I meant it when I said I wasn’t leaving you. This conversation isn’t going to change that.”

Vader turned the comlink over in his hands for a moment. “This comlink is completely untraceable,” he said, apparently deciding not to respond to Luke’s reassurances, “and it is heavily encrypted.”

“Completely untraceable?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “But I thought no one had – ”

“I designed it myself.” That brought Luke up short in surprise, but Vader waved away any comments before he could make them. “Come here.”

His father held the comlink out to Luke as he approached. It did not look much different from any other standard comlink, and his father took a minute to explain how it worked before he turned to go.

“This comlink is yours. You may keep it and you do not need my permission to use it.”

Luke sensed his father’s discomfort at allowing him this freedom, but it seemed he was determined to do whatever it took to earn Luke’s trust. “Thank you, Father.”

“Just be sure the encryptions are set before you make any attempt to contact your friends,” Vader said.

Luke held the comlink tightly in his hand as he watched him leave the room. He had been eager to contact Leia, but now that the moment was finally here, his stomach was coiling nervously. Leia would not react well to any part of his news, save perhaps the fact that he was alive.

Luke retreated farther into his quarters, going all the way back to his bedroom. It gave him the illusion of more privacy, even if it was likely no more private than his sitting room or even the office. He sat on the edge of his bed and flopped back to lie on the mattress, still staring at the small device in his hand. He knew his father had been good with technology as a child, an instinctive skill that had made him valuable as a slave, but to construct a completely untraceable comlink, something many Imperial and Rebel engineers had spent years working on with no success? And as far as he knew, his father had no formal training in any form of engineering or mechanical design. Luke’s eyes darted to the door of his room, as though trying to see his father through several layers of durasteel. More than ever, he wanted to get to know his father, know the man behind the mask and the stories.

He closed his eyes and pushed his free hand through his hair. He couldn’t put this off any longer.

Luke sat up on the bed and pulled his legs up under him, leaning his back against the wall. He toggled the switch on the comlink that would filter his voice, stripping it of any identifying features. Just in case Leia wasn’t alone when he called. Then he entered the familiar frequency and held his breath as the call went through. The comlink buzzed several times, each one tightening the hold anxiety held around his heart.

 _Pick up, Leia,_ he thought. It would take him a while to build up his resolve to call her again if she didn’t answer this time.

Luke’s finger hovered over the disconnect button, and he was just about to press it when the call connected. There was silence on the other end of the comlink, and Luke knew she was being cautious. If his father was right about the level of encryption, Leia’s comlink would be displaying nothing in the way of caller identification.

“Princess Leia?” Luke asked. He could not hear the modifications being applied to his voice, so he had no way of knowing how he sounded to Leia. He hoped she wouldn’t end the call before he was able to explain.

“Who is this?” she demanded. Her words were sharp, authoritative, and despite the situation, Luke smiled at the familiarity of it. Usually that venom was saved for Han or particularly annoying Imperials, but Luke could hardly blame her for levying it at him in these circumstances. Leia was particularly good at covering her uncertainty with false confidence. Luke wanted to reassure her, turn the vocal filter off and reveal who he was right now. But he needed to make sure it was safe to do so first.

“Is this channel secure? Are you alone?” He knew he would eventually need to tell High Command, if he wanted them to know that he wasn’t a traitor. But he needed to tell Leia first, allow her to come to terms with it without Command breathing down her neck as she did. She deserved that much and he wanted to start small in any case. He hoped she would be an ally when he _did_ tell Command, hoped she would stand with him and support him.

“Yes.” Leia’s voice when she replied was quiet, but there was no hint of a quaver in it. If she was scared, she wasn’t letting it show. “Now who are you and how did you get this number?”

Luke took a deep breath before he gave her his code phrase. “It’s good to hear your voice,” he said. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp from Leia as she recognized his all-clear sign. Leia would disagree with his use of it in his current situation, but perhaps it would keep her calm so he could explain. And he wasn’t actually in any immediate danger, nor was he under duress.

“Luke?” Leia asked, forgetting to return her own code phrase in her surprise.

Luke thumbed off the vocal filter. “Hello Leia.” He grinned as he imagined the shocked expression on her face.

“You’re alive,” she breathed, the comlink barely picking up her voice. Luke bit back his instinctive response that _of course_ he was, Vader would never kill him. He needed to be careful with how he broke the news.

“Leia, I – ” he started, but she cut him off.

“How did you escape?” she asked. “Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?”

Luke blinked at her frantic barrage of questions and attempted to answer. “Leia – ”

“Are you hurt?”

“Leia!” he snapped. She fell silent at his reprimand, and he took the moment to breathe before continuing. “I’m fine, Leia. I’m not hurt.” He rotated his shoulder, feeling the small ache still present, but it wasn’t worth mentioning. It would probably be completely healed by tomorrow, or the day after at the longest. “Leia, I need you to stay calm. You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“What’s wrong, Luke?” He could hear the tension in her voice and decided it was best to get it over with quickly.

“I’m still on the _Executor_ ,” he said quietly, “but it’s not what you think.”

Leia cursed sharply, a word she had probably picked up from Han. “Luke, what are you doing?” she hissed. “Are you sure this transmission isn’t being tracked?”

“Yes, look at the encryptions, Leia. You can’t trace that kind of signal.” He could not blame her for worrying about that first. She was right to be concerned about the safety of the Rebel base, and under normal circumstances he never would have risked comming her like this.

“Okay, okay, Luke.” He heard her take a breath, a staticky sound over the comlink. “Do they know you’ve escaped? Can you get off the ship?”

Luke sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. How to tell her? “Leia, I… No. I haven’t exactly _escaped_.”

“What do you mean? Luke, you said – ”

“I gave you the right code,” he reassured her. “I’m not in danger, I’m not under duress. Oh, Force, how do I tell you this?”

“Luke…” Now Leia’s voice was shaky. He couldn’t draw this out any further or she was going to think the worst of him.

“I told you Vader wouldn’t hurt me, right?” The words tumbled over themselves, rushing to get out of his mouth. “He’s my – ” Luke’s throat locked up and he took a breath before clearing it. “He’s my father.”

There, the words were out, and shivers ran down Luke’s spine, flooding through his body as the significance of this moment closed in on him. This was the first time he had admitted it out loud to anyone besides Vader. There was no turning back now, and he could have just lost Leia forever. He closed his eyes and braced himself for her reaction.

It was a long moment in coming, and Luke found himself holding his breath as he waited.

“ _What?_ ” Her voice wasn’t angry, more incredulous, and Luke wasn’t sure which would have been worse. He had been prepared to ward off her anger, though he certainly hadn’t been looking forward to it, and he did not quite know how to handle her disbelief.

“He’s my father.” It wasn’t any easier to say the second time around, and Luke shuddered.

“How long?” she demanded. “How long have you known?”

Luke bowed his head, closing his eyes against the moisture welling in them. “Since Bespin,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Leia.”

“You never – ” Leia stopped, and she sounded lost. “You never _told_ me.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Luke took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t know how to. I couldn’t – I didn’t want to lose you.”

A tear escaped from behind Luke’s eyelids, and he let it fall. The weight of guilt was pressing on his heart, and he dropped his head into his free hand.

“Leia…”

“Don’t, Luke. Let me… let me think,” she pleaded. The silence between them was oppressive, and Luke could feel the air around him crackling with tension. He tried to calm himself, and he reached for the Force. Its familiar light steadied him enough to allow him to release some of his fear.

He could do this on his own, if he had to. It would be harder, but there was nothing stopping him from taking the Empire down from the inside just because he didn’t have the support of the Alliance. He held the comlink away from him as that thought tore a small sob from him. He could do it, but it would break him.

Luke almost reached out for his father but stopped just short of activating their link. He needed to deal with this on his own. Vader would not be of much help in this situation. The Force pulled in closer around him, wrapping him in comforting warmth like a blanket. It was reassuring and supportive, and Luke relaxed a tiny bit as he allowed the Force to convince him he was still doing the right thing.

Finally Luke heard Leia take a deep breath. “All right. You’re Darth Vader’s son. He’s Anakin Skywalker?”

Luke nodded before remembering that she couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

“Okay.” She took another breath. “So what does this mean? Are you… Did you allow your capture on purpose?” Her voice was quiet, pained, and the words cut Luke’s heart.

“No,” he said, trying to keep the tremor out of his own voice. “I swear to you, Leia. I never intended this.”

She sighed. “I believe you.”

Some of the weight lifted from Luke’s chest. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“How long do we have?” Leia asked.

“As long as we need.” Luke winced as he said it, realizing how bad it sounded. But it seemed Leia was willing to listen to him at least.

“You’re not a prisoner.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Luke admitted. “But I can’t leave either.”

“I guessed as much. Can you try to escape?”

Luke hesitated. This part might be even more difficult to explain than the revelation of his heritage.

“Leia, I’m not leaving.” He gave her a moment, expecting her outrage, but she was silent. “I made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Her voice was cautious, but Luke was just glad she was still letting him explain. He would not have blamed her if she had decided to reject him and his plans as soon as she learned the truth.

“The kind that might win us this war,” he said. “I can take the Empire down from the inside.”

“You can take the Empire down from here too,” Leia argued, a hint of anger creeping into her tone.

“This is an opportunity we will not get again. I can get close enough to the Emperor to kill him. And Father wants – ”

“Father!” Leia scoffed. “He has not earned that title from you.”

“Leia, there’s still good in him. I can _save_ him.”

“He cut off your hand!” Leia shouted, an edge of hysteria to her voice. “Unless you lied about that too.”

“I haven’t lied about any of it,” Luke said, trying and failing to ignore the pain her words caused. “I just… _omitted_ a few things.” Even he could hear how weak an argument that was. He sighed. “I’m sorry, Leia.”

Leia was quiet save the gentle sound of her breath for a long moment. When she spoke again, she was calmer. “Will you tell me what happened at Bespin?”

So Luke told her, starting with his visions on Dagobah, all the way up to Leia and Lando retrieving him from the weather vane under Cloud City. He left nothing out, determined to tell her everything this time. It felt good to get it all off his chest. Leia was silent throughout, though she made a startled sound when Luke spoke of Vader’s offer and his subsequent, thorough rejection of it.

“I swear, Leia, I never planned to join him.”

“Then why are you now?” The challenge was soft, more curious than angry, but it was still an accusation. “You chose death last time. That’s a pretty big change.”

Luke sighed and shifted so he could tuck one of his legs up against his chest. “I’ve had enough time to accept the truth and realize that there’s still good in him. And death isn’t an option for me this time.” He smiled wryly, recalling his father’s words on the subject. The weight of his saber against his hip taunted him, but suicide wasn’t something he was even considering, and it wasn’t what Leia was insinuating in any case. “Last time, jumping was the only option I had outside of turning. This time, I don’t have to worry about that. Father isn’t going to make me turn.”

Leia snorted. “And you trust him?”

“He’s never lied to me,” Luke said, putting as much calm sincerity as he could into his voice.

“As far as you know,” she snapped. “Luke, you know what he’s done!”

 _I… never meant to hurt her._ His father’s stammered words echoed in his mind, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I know very well what he’s done,” he said quietly. He sighed. _Probably better than you do._ “But I also know who he used to be.” Not entirely the truth, but he had an idea of who he had been, and he knew his father had been a good man.

“Luke… you barely know anything about who Anakin Skywalker was,” Leia said sadly. “Maybe… maybe he wasn’t who you thought he was.”

Luke shook his head, even knowing she couldn’t see it. “No.” He refused to believe that the man Obi-Wan had spoken so fondly of, the man Aunt Beru had whispered stories about late at night when Luke couldn’t sleep as a child, the man his mother must have loved, even the man Yoda had called a “powerful Jedi,” was anything but a good man. Obi-Wan had said something, during Luke’s frantic packing on Dagobah before his flight to Bespin, something about not wanting to lose Luke to the Emperor the way he had lost Vader. If Obi-Wan worried Luke would fall the same way Anakin did, that meant that Anakin could not have _wanted_ this. And when Vader had explained what the Emperor would do to force Luke to turn, he had told him that that was “essentially” what Palpatine had done to him. And while Leia may not trust Vader’s word, Luke did. “I know he was a good man.”

“That’s not enough to absolve him of – ”

“I’m not absolving him,” Luke interrupted. “I know he’s done terrible things he can’t atone for. But he can come back to the Light. I believe that.” _I have to believe that,_ he thought but did not say, knowing he couldn’t show any doubt or Leia would pounce on it.

“And then what?” she asked scathingly.

“You know how powerful he is, how influential. Can you imagine?” Luke leaned forward a little, a subconscious effort to draw closer to Leia even though she was light years away. “If someone like _Darth Vader_ defected?”

Leia scoffed. “There’s no way.”

“Okay, so that’s not currently the plan,” Luke admitted. “But imagine how much smoother the takeover would be. We destroy the Emperor and then transition the Empire back to a Republic from a place of power. No more fighting, no more hiding. It would be a legitimate government and no one could argue against it. Palpatine manipulated the system to take over legally, why can’t we do the same?”

 _And this way, no one will kill my father,_ he added silently. The Alliance would not consider the war won until both the Emperor and Darth Vader were dead, if they continued to fight it the way they had for the last twenty years. And Luke could not allow that to happen. He knew that whatever happened now, he would need to stand between his father and the Alliance, even if it got him killed. As he had told Vader with regards to the Emperor’s plots, he would not regret dying for his father.

“But Luke…” Leia’s voice cut into his morbid thoughts. “There’s no way Vader would turn against the Emperor.”

Luke shook his head. “He already has. Leia, he _hates_ the Emperor. He wants him dead more than we do.”

“That’s… that’s _ridiculous_. Vader’s been serving the Emperor for over twenty years. If he wanted him dead, why hasn’t he acted before now?”

Luke sighed. “He’s not strong enough.” He let Leia think about that for a moment before he continued. “That’s why he wanted me to join him.”

“But why does he want him gone at all? He’s been with him from the beginning. If he doesn’t agree with him, why support him in the first place?”

“The Emperor took _everything_ from him. He’s stayed with him because the Empire was the only thing he thought he had left.”

“Because Vader destroyed the Jedi Order and anything else he might have had.”

Luke frowned. “What?” He remembered Obi-Wan saying something to that effect, something about Vader hunting down and destroying the Jedi, but at the time he had fixated on the idea that Vader had betrayed and murdered his father.

“My father didn’t talk about the fall of the Republic very much, but he made a point of making sure I knew how dangerous Vader was. He betrayed the Jedi Order and personally killed many of them. After the Purge, he spent the first few years of the Empire tracking down and killing any surviving Jedi and other Force-sensitives, including children.” Leia paused, letting Luke take this in. “Do you understand why I’m worried for you?”

“He’s not going to kill me.” Luke still held that belief firm in his heart, though he was shaken by the thought of his father killing children. It shouldn’t surprise him; Vader’s reputation for wanton violence was legendary, and Luke now knew that even the woman Vader loved hadn’t been safe from his rage, so why would children be exempt? Except that Luke knew that his father knew the pain of losing a child, so how could he bear to take the lives of someone else’s children? Was it anger at the injustice of losing his own and a desire for others to feel his pain? Or had Vader simply ceased to care about anything after losing everything? Something about the second option seemed to ring true in the Force, and Luke shuddered at the thought of the complete apathy that must have encompassed his father to allow him to kill children without feeling anything.

“You can’t know that. You can’t _possibly_ know that.”

“No, but I believe it.”

“Luke, please don’t do this,” Leia begged. “Come back to us!”

“No, Leia. I made my choice.” He put as much steel as he could into his voice. His heart ached, and he wanted so badly to drop the whole thing and go running back to her, to take the hopelessness out of her voice, if nothing else. But he knew he was doing the right thing. He just needed to convince _her_ of that.

“I’m so scared for you. Vader could hurt you so easily.”

“He’s as likely to hurt me as I am to hurt you,” Luke argued, knowing that wasn’t quite an accurate comparison but wishing she would trust him to know what he was doing.

“Pretty kriffing likely then!” Leia snarled.

Luke gaped, her words taking a moment to sink in, but when they did, he felt like a stormtrooper had punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs and causing pain to coil heavily inside him.

“What?” he gasped.

“Luke, what you’re doing…” Leia’s voice shook, thick with tears. “Did you even think about us? Did you think about what this would _do_ to us? You don’t exist alone in the vacuum of space, Luke! What you do affects us, especially now. If you appear to switch sides, that’s going to hurt the Alliance. And what about Han?”

“Leia,” Luke choked on her name. “I _did_ think about it, I _did_ think about you.” He knew what she was trying to say but could never bring herself to admit. She wanted to appear strong, untouched by loneliness, but Luke knew losing him so soon after losing Han was hurting her. He pushed aside his own pain and tried to alleviate hers. “It’s not my intention to hurt you, you must know that. I don’t want to leave you alone. We’ll still get Han back, I swear. That was part of my deal. I will get him back for you. You won’t be alone.”

“You think that’s what this is about?” Leia’s voice was higher than normal in incredulity, and she stifled a sob. “You think that’s the only thing I care about?”

“I know it’s not,” Luke said. “But I know you _are_ worried about him. It will be okay, Leia. We’ll rescue him, and I will come back to you when this is over.”

“ _If_ you survive.”

“My father will not kill me,” Luke repeated. “And if the Emperor does…” He sighed. “It’s no more dangerous than any other mission I’ve been on. You know the life expectancy of a fighter pilot.”

“This is different, Luke, and you know it,” she snapped.

“Leia, I’m infiltrating the Empire. At its highest level. You could never get another operative this high up if you spent a year trying. Let me do this!” he begged.

“You’re not _trained_ for espionage.”

“Then it’s a good thing my direct superior is in on it,” Luke said, grinning a little despite the situation. Leia ignored his attempt at humor.

“I still can’t believe Vader would do this. It goes against everything we’ve ever seen from him.”

Luke shrugged and leaned back against the wall. “He’s doing it for me. He… actually cares about me.” He raked his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs off his forehead. “I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true.”

“Why?” Leia whispered. “Why would he tear down everything he’s spent the last two decades building? Just for a son he _cared about_ enough to abandon and then hunt down and maim?” Sarcasm bled through her words and Luke winced.

“He thought I was dead with my mother,” Luke said quietly. “Another lie the Emperor fed him. He didn’t know I was alive until shortly after the Battle of Yavin. He didn’t intentionally abandon me.” He did not want to go into the scant details he knew of his mother’s death. That would do nothing to help his argument. “And I take responsibility for what happened at Bespin. I could have surrendered, but I chose to keep fighting, intending to continue to the death. There was nothing else he could have done.”

“I can’t _believe_ you’re making excuses for him.”

“It’s not an excuse,” Luke insisted. “It’s the truth. And as for why he’s doing this, he’s trying to protect me.”

“To protect you.” Leia’s voice was flat in disbelief, the words not even a question. “From what?”

“The Emperor. Father doesn’t want me to fall into his hands. The Emperor wants me for my power, and he will do anything to get it.” The tightness in his chest was familiar, the stirrings of fear and dread at the thought of being taken and twisted by the Emperor the way his father had been. Luke would like to believe he could hold out, that he would be able to resist whatever the Emperor threw at him and choose death over falling in the end, but there was still a pale shadow of doubt in his mind.

“Then why keep you so close to him? You’re safer with the Alliance.” Leia’s anger was calming into cold rationale. As terrifying as it was to have the Princess’ ire directed at him, this was almost worse. Leia’s reasoning was always sound and it was difficult to argue against. A product of her upbringing as a politician.

Luke shook his head again. “He doesn’t trust anyone else to protect me. The Emperor has other people hunting me besides my father. If one of them gets to me first, Father won’t be able to protect me. They’ll take me directly to the Emperor. At least this way, he can stand between us.”

“If Vader couldn’t catch you with the entire Imperial Navy at his disposal, how could these other agents manage it?”

“They got close enough on Vrogas Vas to actually get me in a shuttle,” Luke said. “My father’s the only reason I escaped.”

“You’re trying to tell me it was _Vader_ who brought that shuttle down?” Leia asked. “Why would he – ”

“I told you,” Luke interrupted gently. “He’s trying to protect me from the Emperor.”

Leia sighed. “Okay, say I believe this. What happens now?” she asked.

“Now I honor my deal. I stay with Vader, and he claims me as his son and heir.”

“His _heir_?” Leia asked, her voice sharp with horror and disbelief.

“Yes, I am now second in line for the throne,” he said wryly. It was amusing, he realized, that he was suddenly a higher rank than Leia, even if he never intended to take the throne. If someone had told him four years ago, when he was staring wide-eyed at a hologram of a princess in trouble, that he would one day be the prince of the Empire, he would have been too incredulous to even laugh at them. Even now it was a difficult concept to grasp.

“Luke!”

“I’m not going to take power, Leia,” Luke reassured her. “You know I don’t want it. And I won’t let my father take over either. Don’t worry.”

“This is insanity, Luke.”

“It’s the best option we have. It’s the _only_ option, but it could work. I could _kill the Emperor_. I could end the war.” Luke changed tactics, appealing to Leia’s devotion to the cause rather than trying to convince her it was possible to save Darth Vader. That was a losing battle to begin with. She hated Vader, with good reason, and she had no real incentive to change her mind. Trying to push that would only drive her further away.

“But…” Leia trailed off. She sighed. “Even if you manage to kill the Emperor, how can you be sure Vader won’t take power?”

Luke did not answer for a long moment. Realistically, if Vader decided he wanted the throne, Luke could not stop him. They both knew that Luke would not kill him, and no one else would be powerful enough to do it. Leia’s fears were reasonable. But he also knew that his own ultimatum, that he would leave Vader’s side if he seized the throne, held a lot of sway over his father.

He needed to say something, knowing Leia was growing impatient with the silence stretching between them. “I know you can’t trust Vader,” he said quietly, “but can you trust me?” He closed his eyes as he waited for Leia’s answer. If she could not, that would be the end of it. This would never work if she wasn’t willing to trust him.

Finally, she sighed. “Yes, Luke,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

The fear in Luke’s chest shattered, releasing all the apprehension he had been harboring. He bowed his head, overwhelmed at the flood of relief and gratitude. He had not realized just how terrified he had been that she would turn her back on him. But she had accepted him despite the revelation of his parentage, she was willing to support him. He would not have to walk this path alone. A tremor ran through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the welling tears.

“Thank you,” he murmured, not sure if he was speaking loudly enough for the comm to pick him up or not. “I didn’t think…” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t admit to her that he had doubted her. He could barely admit it to himself. She deserved better than that.

“I would never reject you, Luke,” Leia said, somehow realizing what he wasn’t saying. “I don’t agree with what you’re doing, and I’m still terrified for you, but you’re not your – you’re not Vader.”

“Leia… I’m _so_ sorry. I – I never meant to – ”

“Luke, it’s okay,” she interrupted. “It’s alright. I’m sorry too. I made that harder on you than I should have.”

“Thank you,” he said again, louder this time. “That wasn’t… I know that wasn’t an easy thing to hear. And I know I shouldn’t have waited this long to tell you.” He did not know what would have happened if he had told Leia earlier, if he had told her right after Bespin. Would she have accepted it more easily?

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She sighed. “But I understand why you did.”

“I want to tell High Command, before we make a public announcement.”

Leia hesitated. “I can tell them, Luke,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to.”

That was tempting. Luke bit his lower lip, wishing he could just pawn the responsibility off onto Leia. She had offered, and it would be so easy…

“No,” he said. “I appreciate that, but I think I should be the one to tell them.”

“Okay. But I’ll support you.”

“Thanks.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Luke leaned back against the wall again. The worst was over. Command probably wouldn’t take it any better than Leia had, but at least this time he wouldn’t be alone.

“It’ll probably take a few days to get it coordinated, but I can set up a meeting,” Leia said. “Just contact me again in a couple of days and I’ll hopefully have a time figured out.”

“Okay.” Luke sighed. “I should probably go. I… haven’t slept in a while.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Leia asked, nothing but concern for him in her voice. He smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Neither one of them wanted to end the comm, but Luke could feel exhaustion creeping up on him and knew he needed sleep. He glanced up at the chrono on the wall. It was late, and it had been a rough few days.

“I love you, Leia,” he murmured, feeling moisture prick at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Luke. We’ll get through this. I love you too. Just… take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” he promised.

~*~

Luke didn’t bother to dig through the closet in search of sleep clothes. He just removed the cape, dropping it in a pile on the floor at the side of his bed, set his lightsaber and comlink on top of it, and slid beneath the sheets. He barely had time to note how soft they were before he fell asleep.


	12. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot of talking, but it's a lot of important and heart-felt talking. Some Vader, Leia, and Luke POVs. And there's an exciting thing that some of you have been waiting for that happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to stop apologizing for how long updates take, because I seem to do that every chapter. Life, writer's block, school, etc.  
> So as long as this chapter is, it was going to be a lot longer. But it was getting to be ridiculous, so I split it into two chapters. _Hopefully_ I should get chapter 13 up much sooner, considering that a good portion of it has already been written, and I know exactly what is going to happen. But I'm not going to promise, because that never seems to work out.
> 
> Also, I made a small edit to the end bit of chapter 5 (Leia's POV section) to include General Draven from Rogue One. None of the dialogue was changed, some of it was just reassigned.

Vader paced his quarters, distracted by his son’s spiraling emotions. He made sure to keep a careful distance from their bond, not wanting to interrupt or let Luke know he was monitoring him. Each time he felt his son’s pain, he had to fight a desire to barge into Luke’s room and… do what? He could not protect Luke from this, except perhaps by crushing the comlink and ending the conversation with the Princess. But that would do nothing to ease Luke’s anxiety, and it would break their deal. So Vader forced himself to be content to wait, and to watch.

He was only marginally appeased when he felt the sudden rush of Luke’s relief. His son’s attachment to the Rebel Princess and his other friends was strong, and he worried about their ability to sway Luke’s decision away from staying with him. He knew that Luke would not break his vow and attempt to run, but he did fear that his son would ask to be released, and he feared the resentment that would follow if he refused to let him go. He could not bear Luke’s hatred, but nor could he stand to watch him walk away.

Vader stopped pacing in the middle of the room and closed his eyes.

_I won’t leave you._

He held his son’s words in his mind, as he had countless times since the boy had uttered them, turning them over and examining them, hoping to make some sense of them and the emotions behind them. He had not turned to look at Luke, had not seen whatever expression might have been on his face as he’d said them, and his emotions had been impossible to read. Luke felt _so much_ , as Vader had when he was younger, and he briefly wondered whether Yoda had balked at training the son the way he had at training the father. It was clear Luke did not hold to the Jedi’s rules of no attachment.

And there was fear. Luke’s temper was a difficult beast to rouse; Vader had goaded it partially awake a few times at Bespin, though he knew he had not seen the full strength of it. But Luke’s _fear_. The boy had reeked of it throughout their duel, however much he had tried to hide it, and Vader had felt flashes of it multiple times since Luke had contacted him only yesterday. Yet he somehow prevented the darkness of those emotions from permanently influencing his light. Luke was so firmly grounded in the Light, as Vader had experienced when Luke had attempted to meditate. His worst emotions seemed no more than storm clouds that obscured the sun for a brief moment before blowing away to reveal untainted light. For a moment, Vader was inexplicably proud. Luke could resist the Dark in a way that he had never been able to.

However, this would present several problems, the most important of them being their ability to deceive the Emperor into believing that Luke was slipping. Even if Vader was _completely_ certain that Luke would not allow the Dark to permanently influence him, which he was not, the memories of his visions were enough to prevent him from wanting to contemplate the idea of having Luke actually flirt with the Dark Side, even if his son had been willing. It was seductive and wily and likely to sink its claws into even the most careful of curious Force users. Vader knew how quickly it could slither its way in and consume the Light, how impossible it was to expel. Not that he had _tried_.

Luke’s presence flickered and dimmed to a muted glow that Vader knew meant his son had fallen asleep. He suppressed a surge of disappointment that Luke had not sought him out after his conversation with the Princess. But he should not have expected him to. He knew the boy was unlikely to share anything the Princess had said with him, except perhaps whether or not she had decided to support him, and from Luke’s relief, Vader had no reason to suspect that she had turned her back on his son. That was… somewhat unfortunate, as it meant Luke still had his strong ties to the Rebellion, but Vader found himself unable to wish that unhappiness on his son. Regardless of what he had told the Emperor, he did not want to _break_ Luke.

Vader returned his attention to Luke’s calmly sleeping mind. It seemed the boy was tired enough that he was not dreaming. That was probably a blessing, if Luke had inherited any of his father’s tendencies towards disruptive dreams, Force-sent or no. Vader basked in the now-familiar feel of his son’s presence for a moment, marveling at the aura of peace that wrapped around Luke like a cloak. Luke was not yet a full Jedi, but he was already far better at allowing the Force to take his anxiety than Vader ever had been, than many Jedi ever had been. As much as his son still had to learn, he already seemed to use the Force instinctively, connecting to it at a level Vader had never seen outside of himself. And right now that connection allowed Luke’s mind to be at ease, even considering his unfamiliar, and most likely stressful, situation.

It was still incredible to Vader, the knowledge that his son was only a room over, on the same ship as he was. He had longed for this day ever since he had learned of his son’s survival, and yet it had seemed an impossibility as time after time Luke had slipped through his grasp. Even now it was difficult to believe that Luke was really here, and he wasn’t trying to run. Despite how clearly Vader could feel him, he found himself crossing the room to stand next to the door connecting their rooms. He needed to _see_ his son, to know he was still there and had not somehow managed to injure himself in the short amount of time since Vader had last seen him.

Luke had not yet set up a code to lock the door, so Vader felt very little guilt for entering his son’s rooms without permission. Luke did not stir when his bedroom door slid open, too deeply asleep to notice his father’s presence. The boy was curled up on the bed, only half under the covers and still dressed. Vader smiled slightly at the sight, just a small tug at one corner of his lip. His son was… Vader hesitated, unable to find the word he wanted. Perfect, perhaps? He stared at Luke for a long moment before he moved closer almost without conscious thought. His son’s light hair, blond he knew, though it was tinged red by the lenses of Vader’s infernal mask, fell across his face, and before he knew what he was doing, Vader reached out to brush it back.

He stopped with his gloved hand mere inches from Luke’s forehead. If his hand had been flesh, it would have been trembling. He clenched it into a fist and withdrew his arm, unable to bring himself to complete the motion. An emotion he could no longer name beat in his chest, and he turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. He did not deserve his son, did not deserve to have his trust or his loyalty.

Vader took a step back, away from Luke, but before he could turn to leave, his gaze was drawn back to his sleeping child. He was still only half under the covers. Careful not to touch Luke, Vader grasped the edge of the blankets and pulled them up over his son. Luke shifted slightly, and Vader froze, but his son did not wake. It still took Vader a moment to relax and then he stayed there for a long moment, just watching Luke sleep, and tried to banish painful memories of _her_ soft voice murmuring about colors for the wall of the baby’s room and her insistence that it would be a boy.

 _You were right, of course,_ he thought. _You always were._

Luke was all that remained of her now, the only testament to their love, and Vader knew he would do whatever it took to keep their son safe and alive. _Whatever_ it took, even if it cost him his own life. That knowledge stunned him for a moment. This surge of fierce protectiveness was something he had not experienced in what seemed a lifetime. A lifetime ago, he had cared _too_ much, had been willing to sacrifice himself for his men and the handful of people closest to him, including his wife and padawan. The past two decades, before he had learned of Luke’s existence, he had not cared at all for his own life and had continued living only out of a misplaced sense of duty to his Master. The realization that he cared about his own life again was shocking enough, but to find that there was again someone he would sacrifice it for? It was not something he was prepared to deal with at the moment.

Vader quickly retreated from Luke’s room after a brief glance back at his son to make sure he still had not woken. He had barely made it back to his own quarters when his comlink buzzed, and he was glad he had left when he had or else the sound _would_ have woken his son.

“What is it?” Vader growled, unsure if he was thankful for the distraction from his thoughts or not. Admiral Piett coughed nervously.

“My Lord, we have a situation you might want to deal with personally.”

~*~

Leia knocked softly on the door to Mon’s office. A large part of her hoped that the former Senator would not be in, that she could put off telling her about this until tomorrow, and perhaps when she woke up in the morning, she would find that it had all been a terrible dream and Luke would be in the hangar tinkering with his X-wing or working through his lightsaber forms in one of the back hallways, still the son of a hero Jedi instead of the Emperor’s pet monster. But Mon’s gentle call to enter shattered that happy daydream, and Leia palmed the door’s release before she could lose her nerve.

Mon was sitting at her desk and she glanced up from the datapad she was reading as Leia entered.

“Oh, hello Leia,” she said. “What can I…” She trailed off as her eyes took in Leia’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

Leia bit her lip, wanting so badly to say nothing and back out before it was too late, but she knew she couldn’t. Luke needed her, and despite the upheaval in her emotions the truth had caused, she knew she would always stand by Luke when he needed her. He was still her best friend, still so much like a brother, although she shied away from the implications of that analogy, given the new information.

“Luke made contact,” she finally said, her voice much quieter than she had intended.

“He managed to escape Darth Vader’s grasp?”

Leia shook her head, seeing her own former hope reflected on Mon’s face and realizing just how hard it must have been for Luke to dash hers apart.

“Not exactly. He’s…” She hesitated, unable to come up with any easy way to explain this. She had thought through what she would say before coming here, of course, but now that she was facing Mon, all her carefully planned words had abandoned her. She felt like she had the first time she had given a speech in the Senate, nerves twisting her stomach into knots and her heart in her throat, making it hard to breathe and even harder to force the words out.

Mon stared at her for a long moment before she turned her datapad off and very deliberately set it off to the side. “He told you the truth about his father.”

Leia froze, unsure if she had heard her correctly. How did _Mon_ know? Had Luke told her? No, he had made it sound like he hadn’t told anyone, so how did…

“How do you know that?” Leia wasn’t sure her words were even audible.

Mon sighed and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I suspected Vader told him the truth during their duel at Bespin, but I could not prove it. I cannot say I blame him for keeping that secret close, and I dared not risk asking him about it myself without knowing for sure. I did not want to be the one to tell him if he didn’t already know.”

Leia was having a difficult time grasping this. Did _everyone_ know that Vader was Luke’s father except for her? How had Mon even _learned_ this, if Luke hadn’t told her?

“How long have you known?”

Mon looked at Leia for a moment, her expression unreadable. “I knew from the moment Commander Skywalker set foot on our base.” Leia frowned, but Mon continued before she could protest. “It must have been, oh, ten years ago now, that I learned Darth Vader was once Anakin Skywalker. Your father was the one to tell me that.”

“My father?” Leia’s head was spinning, and she drifted across the room to sit in one of the extra chairs. This was… so much larger than she had thought. Far more people were involved in what was beginning to look like an elaborate cover up, and she felt a small sting of betrayal that her father, of all people, had been in on this.

“Yes. From what I understand, he was one of only a handful of people in the Galaxy to know Vader’s true identity, along with General Kenobi, the Emperor, and of course Vader himself. It was a closely guarded secret, but the knowledge was a lot for your father to bear alone, as Kenobi was out of contact, and with the Alliance beginning to form in earnest, he felt he needed to share it with someone, especially as things became more dangerous, in case anything happened to him. He had to preserve the Alliance’s knowledge of the truth.”

“How did _he_ know?” Bail Organa seemed an odd member of that group. He had not been a Jedi, or a former Jedi, nor had he been particularly close to Anakin Skywalker, as far as Leia knew. He had been acquainted with Kenobi, and perhaps that was who he had learned it from, but why? What difference would it have made for Bail Organa to know? There was something important here, something tickling at the back of her mind that she could not nail down, and she needed to understand.

“I suppose,” Mon said, “that he was just in the right place at the right time.” She gave Leia a thoughtful look. “I knew there was a child, though the official story said it died with its mother, but I had already long suspected that it had survived and been hidden for its own protection. Learning the truth about Vader only increased my suspicions, and when Commander Skywalker told us his name…” Mon spread her hands, offering Leia an apologetic shrug.

“You knew, all this time, and you never told Luke?” Leia demanded. “He had to learn from that – that _monster_ , when he could have learned it from _you_?”

“Leia, try to understand,” Mon said. She gave her a sad smile and waited for the Princess to compose herself. Leia already felt bad for her outburst. She had snapped at her friends too many times today.

“I’m sorry, Mon,” she murmured. “I just…”

“This is a lot, I know. And I am sorry as well. This is a difficult situation we have all found ourselves in.” Mon sighed. “I did not tell Commander Skywalker because he came to us with a story told to him by General Kenobi that Vader had murdered his father. I do not know what Kenobi hoped to accomplish with that lie, but I could not contradict it. Skywalker did not know me and had no reason to trust my word over the word of his teacher. By the time any sort of trust had been built between us, it was too late to tell him the truth without breaking that trust. He would want to know, like you did, why I did not tell him earlier. Leia, he _cannot_ know that I was aware of this before you told me.”

Leia looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “I wasn’t even supposed to tell you. Luke wanted to tell you himself. I was just supposed to set up a meeting with Command so he could talk to all of you. He has a… _ridiculous_ plan that he wants you to be aware of.” She hoped together they would be able to convince Command to go along with it, even as crazy as it was, because she knew Luke would go ahead with it regardless if he had Alliance support or not.

Mon smiled. “I would expect nothing less from him. I assume that his ability to contact us at will means he is not in any danger?”

Leia hesitated at the phrasing of that question, privately thinking that Luke would _always_ be in danger when he was around Vader, but she nodded. “He has not been hurt, and he’s not a prisoner.”

“Good.” Mon leaned back in her chair and some of the tension relaxed out of her shoulders. “You said Commander Skywalker wanted to tell us himself. About his father? Or his plan?”

“Both,” Leia said. “He just wanted me to call a meeting.”

“I will contact the other members of Command. He is certain his communications are not being tracked?”

Leia nodded. “His encryptions are light years beyond what I have ever seen. It has to be Imperial tech. He’s good, but not _that_ good.” It had her worried, actually. If the Imperials had access to completely untraceable communications, that would make the Alliance’s job that much harder. This was something she would have to ask Luke about the next time he commed.

“That is useful, although it could cause problems with our attempts to intercept Imperial transmissions.” Mon echoed her thoughts and Leia nodded. “We will concern ourselves with that later. For now, we will have to be grateful for the opportunity it is presenting us with. Do you know if his father is aware of his communication with you?”

Leia thought back over her conversation with Luke. He had not seemed at all nervous about being overheard on his end, and his comment about them having all the time they needed… “I believe so. He made several references to an unspecified deal he made with Vader, which, knowing Luke, probably included being able to contact us.”

Mon looked at her curiously, with perhaps a bit of concern playing at the corners of her lips. Her political training made her face difficult to read when she decided to hide what she was feeling. “He made a deal with Vader?” She sighed and then answered her own question. “Of course he did. And I suppose he used himself as a bargaining chip. Such a reckless move. How very Skywalker of him.” She smiled slightly, and Leia could not help but think that Mon was probably remembering some anecdote about Anakin Skywalker. Leia doubted he had earned the title of the Hero With No Fear by playing things safe.

“He’s going to let Vader claim him,” Leia said quietly. “As his son and heir.” She dropped her gaze down to her hands clasped in her lap again, not wanting to see Mon’s reaction to that. It still sickened her, that Luke’s name and reputation would be sullied by his connection to Vader and that Luke was willingly allowing it. She didn’t think he fully understood the implications of his decision. His apparent defection was going to be high-profile, and it would strike a heavy blow to the Alliance. It was irresponsible, rash, selfish –

Leia cut her own thoughts off, knowing her irritation at Luke was misplaced. He had given himself up to save her, and now he was doing the best he could with the situation. It was _Vader_ who deserved her ire, and herself, for not listening to Luke’s warnings before the mission. If she had just put her foot down, insisted they heed his uneasiness, he would still be here. The mission hadn’t been worth it. They had accomplished nothing but to lose Luke. The techs had found nothing unusual in the data stolen from the Sluis Van computer systems, nothing to shed any light on what the Empire could be building.

“That is unsurprising,” Mon said, breaking into Leia’s musings. She looked up in surprise.

“What?”

“If Commander Skywalker is not leaving his father, and he’s not a prisoner, it would make sense for him to establish himself as his father’s son. It explains his presence in the Empire and gives him access to _very_ high level information. I assume his ‘ridiculous plan,’ as you put it, involves him spying for us?”

Leia shook her head. “I don’t know about that, but I know he’s planning to kill the Emperor,” she said, familiar cold fear clutching her heart.

 _He’s going to get himself killed,_ she thought. If _Vader_ wasn’t strong enough, Vader who could stand alone against an army and win, Vader who could slaughter hundreds of Rebels single-handedly, to defeat the Emperor, what hope did Luke have? It was a suicide mission at best.

Mon steepled her fingers in front of her face. “That’s ambitious. Is his father aware of his plans?”

_I wish she would stop calling him that._

“ _Vader_ is, apparently, more than okay with this. Luke claims he hates the Emperor more than we do.”

Mon gave Leia an indulgent smile. “Vader is Luke’s father, Leia. There is no point in denying it, especially as Luke himself is not. We should respect his decision.” She waited until Leia nodded, reluctantly, before continuing. “Is Vader willing to work with us?”

“Luke tried to tell me that he could get him to defect. But, Mon, I think he’s… I don’t think he’s seeing things clearly. He’s _convinced_ he can save him.” Leia couldn’t understand why he even wanted to. Father or not, Vader was a brutal monster and undeserving of even a speck of Luke’s time or consideration. “Apparently they’re going to take the Empire down from the inside. But how can you even consider working with _Vader_?” she asked, even knowing that she should be glad to have an ally in Command to support Luke’s plan. Having Mon firmly on their side would be extraordinarily helpful.

“I knew Anakin Skywalker, perhaps not well, but well enough. It’s true that Darth Vader shares few of Skywalker’s better traits, yet he is still the same man. And just maybe his son’s presence will soften him. The fact that he desires to dispose of the Emperor, and that he may be willing to ally with us to do it, suggests that perhaps it has already begun to.” She smiled. “And Darth Vader is much better as an ally than an enemy.”

“But – ”

Mon’s comlink gave a shrill chirp, and she held a hand up to silence Leia, her face paling a few shades.

“Mothma here,” she said, her voice completely businesslike, no trace of the motherly tones she used with Leia.

“Hello, ma’am. It’s Kemsey. Is now a good time?”

Mon’s eyes flickered up to meet Leia’s, worry shadowing her face. Leia started to stand, but Mon waved her back down. “Yes, go ahead.”

“One of our operatives just called in with urgent information regarding Commander Luke Skywalker. You ordered all information about him rerouted directly to you. Would you like me to patch him through?”

Leia’s eyes widened. Mon was personally screening all intelligence coming in about Luke? That was… unusual.

“Yes, please. Thank you, Kemsey.”

Mon met Leia’s startled eyes and gave her a small smile. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but this whole situation was so far away from normal that it did nothing to decrease Leia’s uneasiness.

“You monitor all Intelligence reports involving Luke?”

“I have his name flagged, yes. Any report involving Commander Skywalker goes through me before it enters the system.”

“How long have you been doing that?”

“I flagged it almost as soon as he arrived, and I began screening reports once Vader started taking an interest in him. If word of his parentage was revealed somehow, I wanted to contain it as quickly as possible, minimize the damage. And on the heels of the disaster with Galen Erso, I wanted to be careful with how much information General Draven had access to, since Commander Skywalker’s Imperial ties could implicate him in the General’s mind. He is going to be Skywalker’s biggest opponent in Command.”

“You’re actively keeping things from your own Head of Intelligence?” Leia asked in disbelief.

“Normally I would not want to risk the potential loss of trust if something like this was to come to light, but Commander Skywalker is a special case, and one I thought worth the risk.”

“I appreciate it,” Leia murmured, “and I’m sure Luke would too.”

The comlink beeped again, and a moment later a new voice spoke. “Senator Mothma, I don’t know how long I’ll have, so I will make this quick. I’m stationed on the _ISD Subjugator_ , which until yesterday was in orbit above Sluis Van.”

Leia leaned forward in her chair. It was entirely possible that ship was the one Luke had been brought to directly after his capture. Perhaps this agent had seen Luke and could fill in some of the blanks left after Luke’s frankly less-than-forthcoming account of what had happened following his capture.

“We were ordered to break orbit and rendezvous with the _Executor_ above Tatooine, and though most of us were not given an official explanation, there were rumors a Rebel Jedi had been caught, and we were bringing him to Lord Vader. I thought it might have been Skywalker, so I infiltrated the detention block and attempted to locate the prisoner. But when I got there, I found out he’d already been moved. There’d been an altercation, and the officer responsible for Skywalker’s capture had attempted to kill him – ”

Leia couldn’t stop her horrified gasp. She quickly pressed a hand over her mouth, but Mon sent her an equally worried look. The operative paused in his report, apparently having heard Leia’s gasp.

“Continue,” Mon ordered tersely. Obviously Luke was alive, since he had contacted her, but Leia was concerned that he had not mentioned the _attempt on his life_. She would be sure to express her displeasure at this omission next time she spoke with him.

“Yes, ma’am. Uh, the attempt failed, but Skywalker was injured and moved to medical.” Leia dropped her head into her hands. What _else_ hadn’t Luke told her? “Apparently it wasn’t serious, because he was moved again soon after to a guest suite. The officer who injured him was arrested, and shortly after I arrived, Darth Vader showed up to collect him.” There was a faint tremor in the spy’s voice, and Leia lifted her head to meet Mon’s eyes.

“You came into contact with Darth Vader?” Mon asked, her voice sharp.

“Y-yes, ma’am. He just asked me which cell the officer was in, and I told him. That was all the contact we had. But, Senator, this is the important part.” His deep breath was audible over the comm. “I, um, watched the exchange between Darth Vader and the officer via the cell’s video feed. I don’t have any _substantial_ evidence, but based on Skywalker’s treatment and the conversation, it, uh… it appears that Skywalker is…” Another deep breath, and Leia bit her lip, shooting a concerned look at Mon. “I believe he might be an Imperial spy, ma’am.” His words tumbled out quickly, and he sighed, as though glad to have the difficult words out.

Leia’s eyes widened. That hadn’t been what she had been expecting, and she slumped back into her chair in relief. She wasn’t sure she was ready for someone else to know the truth behind Luke’s parentage. That High Command would know later this week was more than enough. Mon’s face mirrored Leia’s own relief, and a brief grin flashed across her lips. She leaned forward, folding her hands and resting them on her desk.

“What was said to lead you to this conclusion?”

“Uh, Darth Vader threatened to kill him for his attempt on Skywalker’s life and called him a traitor. He said the Emperor himself would have been upset if Skywalker had died, and that Vader wanted Skywalker alive for the good of the Empire.”

Mon glanced at Leia again. It _did_ sound rather incriminating. But both of them knew that Luke was no traitor, that the circumstances were far more complex than this operative realized.

“These are some very serious allegations, Agent,” Mon said evenly. “It would be helpful if we had proof of this conversation.”

“I can certainly attempt to retrieve the recordings – ” The agent cut off with a curse as a loud crash sounded over the comm, followed by heavy footsteps. The unmistakable filtered voice of a stormtrooper shouted “Hands up!” and the comm went dead with a clatter and a burst of static.

~*~

Luke woke up slowly, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. The last two nights since he had been captured were the first in a long time that Luke had slept through without waking up from a nightmare, or with the memory of disturbing dreams. He tried not to think about the implications of that, but he was afraid it had something to do with the proximity of his father. He could not deny that he felt safer around him, that something felt _right_ about standing at his side, but it was still unnerving. He never would have imagined that his nightmares about Darth Vader would be cured by being captured by him.

Luke sighed. He knew it was more complicated than that. He had been afraid of what it might mean to be caught by him, but now those fears had been assuaged by his father’s promises, so there was no reason to be scared of him now. The Emperor, yes, but not his father.

He rolled over and stretched, grimacing as he remembered that he had fallen asleep in his clothes. It certainly wasn’t the first time. Living with the Alliance didn’t always afford him the luxury of a proper night’s sleep, and being constantly on alert often meant dozing in his flight suit, but it was still never entirely comfortable to wake in rumpled clothes, no matter how good it had felt to just fall asleep without bothering to change beforehand.

Aside from that, he was incredibly comfortable. The bed was quite possibly the nicest he had ever slept on, the mattress was the right combination of soft and supporting, and the black sheets were silky under his fingertips. This was one thing he could get used to about Imperial life. This and not having to be constantly running.

The chrono on the wall told him it was late morning, by standard time. Later than he would normally wake if he was still with the Alliance. His body must still be trying to catch up on all the sleep he’d lost lately. Luke wasn’t complaining, and he briefly wondered how long his father would let him sleep before coming in to wake him up. He didn’t plan on staying in bed all day, but he did wonder if he could get away with it.

Much as he didn’t want to move, he knew he should get up, so he sat up, pushing the covers down around his waist as he did, and shivered as the cool air of the room hit his blanket-warmed body. Space was always cold, and spaceships always held a distinctive chill, regardless of how well heated they were, and even if he had been off Tatooine for four years, he was still a desert boy, still longed for the heat of twin suns.

He could feel his father’s presence a few rooms over, bright enough to be awake but dimmer in distraction. It was odd, not having the full force of Vader’s attention focused on him, a little disconcerting but also a nice reprieve. He had become used to it in the last few days, in all its overbearing intensity, but he didn’t miss the constant feeling of being watched.

He decided not to disturb his father and slipped out from under the covers, careful not to step on his lightsaber or comlink on the floor when he stood.

It didn’t take him long to strip out of the disheveled clothes and put on new ones: similar but not identical black pants and another military-cut black shirt. This was going to be his look now, he knew, and he wasn’t entirely displeased with it, though he eyed the folded cape by his bed with annoyance.

 _Just until our relationship is made public, and I can openly wear my lightsaber,_ he thought, clinging to that frail hope, even as he knew his father would likely insist on the cape as a symbol of his status, even after he could wear his lightsaber without raising suspicions.

The ship was humming, slight, almost unnoticeable vibrations in the floor that Luke recognized as an effect of the hyperdrive engines. He wandered over to the small viewport in his room and raised the shutters. Sure enough, they were in hyperspace, the hypnotic blue the only thing to be seen out the viewport. Luke did not remember feeling the hyperdrive engage, so either he had been too distracted by the emotions prompted by his conversation with Leia, or the ship had not made the jump until after Luke had fallen asleep.

It was a little disconcerting, not knowing where he was headed. It wouldn’t be the first time; there had been plenty of times during missions with Rogue Squadron when coordinates were sent to their navicomputers without the pilots knowing where they were going, for security reasons. But this felt different. He was with the Empire, for one thing, and he wasn’t just flying somewhere to intercept a convoy or destroy a group of TIE fighters. Wherever he was going, he was likely to stay for a while, and he had no control. At least in his X-wing, he could _get out_ , if he needed to. He wasn’t a prisoner on his father’s flagship, but he _was_ trapped.

He could ask his father, and he would, but he questioned whether he would be able to get an answer out of him. He had not exactly been forthcoming about any sort of military matter.

Luke did not bother with his boots or cape before heading through his rooms towards his father’s. He wasn’t likely to be allowed to leave the rooms any time soon, so there was no point. And if he _did_ get to leave, it wouldn’t take him long to put them on and grab his lightsaber. For now, they would just get in the way.

Luke hesitated outside the door connecting his rooms to his father’s, unsure if he was allowed to just enter. He finally knocked, sending a questioning nudge to Vader over their link at the same time.

The door slid open, and Luke stepped into his father’s office. The lighting was dimmer than standard, and the room was even more bare than his own office, if that was possible. The desk, piled with neat stacks of datapads and sheets of flimsi, and the tall leather chair behind it were the only furniture, and the viewport was the only thing to break the monotony of the gray durasteel walls. The shutters were currently open, giving Luke a clear view of the blue streaks of hyperspace.

Vader stood behind his desk, reading one of the many datapads.

“You do not need to ask to enter this room,” Vader said, without looking up from the screen. “This one is always open to you.”

“Thanks?” Luke said, wincing as it came out like a question. He hadn’t intended it that way. He was more just curious about the amount of free access his father was giving him.

Vader tapped at the datapad’s screen a few times before finally setting it down, the screen dark so Luke could not see what he’d been working on, and looking up at Luke.

“Did you sleep well?” Vader asked. He rounded the desk and crossed the room to stand closer to Luke. Luke nodded, privately pleased that his father cared enough to ask and amused at hearing such a mundane question in Vader’s rumbling baritone. He opened his mouth to ask the same, then snapped it back shut and frowned. _Did_ Vader sleep? He must, he was human, but the suit probably caused problems for him. Luke could never remember seeing Vader sit, let alone lie down.

“I rarely sleep,” Vader said, and Luke was unsure if he had broadcast his curiosity or if his father was merely good at guessing his thoughts. “I typically rest by meditating. The Force sustains me.”

Luke’s frown deepened. “That can’t be healthy.”

“I have survived this way for as long as you have been alive, young one.”

Yet another hint that whatever had happened to his father had coincided with Luke’s birth. Vader did not seem to be aware of his slip, and Luke filed the information away for later contemplation.

“Is it the suit that hinders your sleep?” Luke stepped closer to his father and reached out to touch his arm. His father pulled away from him before he could make contact, and Luke dropped his hand.

“Partially.” Luke could feel Vader’s reluctance, yet this was something too crucial to ignore, so he continued to push.

“What is it then?”

Vader turned away from him. “It is not important.”

Luke huffed and stalked around to face his father again. “Yes it is,” he insisted. “Your health is… Your health _matters_ to me.”

Vader froze, even the continued rhythmic breathing unable to break his stillness, and Luke tried again to touch him. This time he didn’t pull away from Luke’s hand as his fingers brushed against his arm. How had his father slid so far into apathy that he no longer cared about his own health, that he no longer counted it as important? His attitude towards the state of his own body was in sharp contrast to his obsession with Luke’s well-being, and Luke hoped that his presence would be enough to break Vader free of that indifference.

“I am in your safekeeping now, so you need to take care of yourself if you want to be able to protect me,” Luke said.

Vader relaxed at that, and Luke felt his father’s confusion ease as he apparently worked out the reason behind Luke’s investment in his health. Luke replayed his words in his mind and groaned.

“No, Father. That’s _not_ the only reason I care!” he snapped. “I care because you’re _my father_. Because I only just found you, and I would rather not lose you so soon after gaining you.” Luke’s voice softened. “Do you really think so little of me, that I would only want you well for my own benefit?”

“I do not think little of you, my son,” Vader said quietly. “But I do not understand you.”

How long had it been since Vader had had any sort of positive human interaction, that he could not understand why someone else would care about his wellbeing? Entirely too long, obviously. Luke tilted his head, considering his father and trying to work up the courage to tell him that he loved him. He did not know how Vader would react to that, but he knew he could not wait too much longer before he said it. It was too important, and he felt the Force nudging him. Apparently it also thought that his father needed to hear it.

“Father, I – ” He stopped, still unable to say it, no matter how strongly he felt it. “I…” The Force stirred around him in anticipation, and he closed his eyes. He just breathed for a long moment, letting the Force calm him and encourage him. Finally, he opened his eyes and stared straight at his father’s mask, trying to meet his eyes despite the red lenses.

“I love you, Father,” he said, and a sense of giddy elation rose in him as the words filled the space between them. He held back a small laugh, biting his lower lip in disbelief that he had actually said it.

Vader’s respirator hitched, something Luke didn’t know it was capable of. His father was still and silent, and Luke moved his hand from his arm to touch his chest, tentatively brushing his fingers against the tabard and then skimming them across the durasteel pauldron.

“Luke,” Vader said, his tone odd, almost choked. “You… What?”

Luke tried to repress a smile, and failed miserably. “You’re going to make me repeat it?” He ducked his head, staring down at his socks. The sight almost made him laugh again. He had just told Darth Vader he loved him, while standing in his personal quarters, wearing _socks_. It was ridiculous. “I care about you because you’re my father, and I love you.” It was easier to say the second time.

Vader took a step back, and Luke let his hand fall back to his side. He glanced up at him, wishing he could see his father’s face. His shields were durasteel walls, sealed tight and unyielding. Luke reached out along the bond, wanting to know _something_ about how Vader was feeling about this. He did not expect reciprocal words from the man; Luke usually did not have trouble saying what he was feeling, so as difficult as it had been for him to say it, he knew it would be harder for his father. Even with as short a time as Luke had known Vader, he knew that his father was much worse with expressing emotions.

His father did not rebuff his presence in their bond, but he didn’t lower his shields either. His body was stiff, his hands clenched into fists, and he was turned half away from Luke, like he wanted to flee.

“I… do not know… what – ” His words were halting, lost, and Luke’s heart ached. How long had it been since someone had told his father that they loved, or even _cared_ , about him?

“It’s okay,” Luke whispered. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“ _How_?” Vader demanded. “How can you possibly – ”

Luke shrugged. “Love is a choice, Father. I chose to forgive you, I chose to trust you, and I chose to love you. I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you, and probably the rest of the Galaxy, don’t think I should. But I do, and I’m not changing my mind.” He meant it, every word of it, and he tried to send a sense of that determination and sincerity across the bond to his father. But Vader’s mind was still closed off, so Luke had no way of knowing whether he had felt it or not.

Vader turned away from him and strode to the viewport. He stared out at the blue streaks of hyperspace, and Luke bit back the sting of disappointment he felt at Vader’s lack of acknowledgement. Even if he hadn’t expected Vader to return the words, he had hoped for something more than this. Even if he was oddly proud to have flustered Darth Vader to the point of speechlessness.

Luke followed his father across the room, his socks making no sound on the durasteel floor. He chose not to look at Vader, but rather out the viewport. They stood in silence for a long moment before Luke decided to break the awkwardness with a change of topic.

“Is it true you can go mad if you gaze into hyperspace for too long?” he asked quietly. He was pretty sure it wasn’t. After all, he had flown through hyperspace in his X-wing for hours without anywhere else to look _but_ hyperspace, and he was still sane. Mostly. He grinned to himself.

“No.”

Luke sighed. He had been hoping for more of an answer than that. “Where are we going anyways?”

“A Rebel spy was caught on board the _Subjugator_.” Luke jerked his head up sharply at that. Vader still wasn’t looking at him. “He broke the communications blackout I ordered. As both ships had already left Tatooine, we have adjusted course to rendezvous above Sullust to transfer – ”

“ _Sullust_?” Luke gasped, horror pounding through him. Not now. He couldn’t lose them now, not when he was getting closer to a solution to this war. He backed away as Vader finally turned to look at him, and he scrambled for his comlink before remembering that he had left it by his bed. He fled the room, only peripherally aware that his father was following him.

“Luke?” Vader said, as Luke flung the door to his bedroom open with the Force and skidded to a stop, dropping to his knees next to his bed and thumbing the comlink on. His hands were shaking as he entered Leia’s frequency.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Luke muttered.

“What is wrong?” Vader asked. Luke could hear the worry in his voice, and he looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Sullust,” he replied, breathless. “That’s where Leia is. That’s where they all are.”

The comlink’s beeping stopped as Leia’s voice crackled through it. “Luke?”

“Leia, you have to get out!” Luke yelled, his words tumbling over themselves. “You have to evacuate!”

“Luke, what’s going on?” Leia asked.

“There’s a spy, they caught a spy, the Empire is coming!”

Luke heard Leia’s sharp intake of breath, but her voice was calm when she replied. “Okay, slow down. Explain.”

Luke forced himself to breathe, forced himself to think past the panic. “They caught a spy on the Star Destroyer I was held on before being transferred to the _Executor_. We’re rendezvousing above Sullust to pick him up, and if the fleet is still there, then the Empire will find you. _You have to get out._ ”

It wouldn’t be a complete slaughter like Hoth had been, not with only the _Executor_ and another Star Destroyer against the whole of the Alliance fleet, but caught by surprise? One ship lost would be too many, and if Imperial reinforcements were called in, they could lose more than that. People and equipment could get trapped and left behind if they couldn’t evacuate before the system went into lockdown…

“You would be wise to listen to him, Princess,” Vader said, startling Luke. He hadn’t expected his father to get involved, much less to support him in this.

“Vader,” Leia hissed. “If you hurt Luke, I will – ”

“Leia, _please_ , you don’t have time,” Luke begged. He looked up at Vader pleadingly. “How long?”

“About twelve hours,” he supplied. “If you do not wish to be discovered, I suggest you begin your evacuation preparations immediately.”

“We already have,” Leia replied, her tone icy as she addressed Vader. It warmed when she turned her attention back to Luke. “Luke, I was with Mon when the agent called in. We heard the stormtroopers come in and arrest him. We’ve been getting ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

Luke sighed in relief. “Good. You’ll let me know if you all get out safely?”

“Of course,” Leia said.

“Thanks.” He would know if the _Executor_ went into battle, but even if it didn’t, that wouldn’t necessarily mean that everyone had been safely evacuated from the planet below. He’d rather not have to wonder about it.

The comlink crackled, and a new voice spoke. “Commander Skywalker?”

“Senator Mothma?” Luke asked in surprise. He hadn’t realized Leia wasn’t alone, and he tensed. But her voice hadn’t sounded angry, so perhaps she didn’t know yet? He _had_ asked Leia to let him tell the rest of High Command, but then why hadn’t she reacted when Vader had interjected?

“Luke?” Leia spoke again, her voice a little more distant. She must have handed the comlink to Mothma. “I told her. I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want me to do that for you, but she wouldn’t call a meeting until she knew what was going on.”

“That’s okay,” Luke said. Well, that explained that. “I’m sorry, Senator. I never intended for this to happen.”

“You do not need to apologize, Commander. I want you to know that you have my support. You are in a difficult position, and not many would have the courage to do what you are doing.”

“Thank you, Senator,” Luke murmured. He had not been expecting to receive her support so readily. It seemed she had no reservations about him at all. With her and Leia, perhaps he had a chance of winning over the rest of High Command.

“Is your father still there?” Mothma asked.

“Yes,” Luke said.

“May I speak with him?”

Luke turned to look up at him. He inclined his head slowly, and Luke held the comlink out to him. He made no move to take it.

“What do you want, Senator?”

“Lord Vader, I realize this is perhaps a little outside of propriety, but you have my gratitude for taking care of our commander.”

“I do not need the gratitude of a Rebel to treat my son properly. He is my son and a prince and should be treated as such,” Vader snarled. He crossed his arms over his chest with a flare of annoyance strong enough that Luke could feel it despite the shields.

“Yes, I suppose he does have royal blood in him, doesn’t he?”

Luke frowned at that, confused. His father wasn’t royalty, unless she counted his position in the Empire as such, but Mothma wouldn’t acknowledge the Empire in that way, and no one else in the Galaxy considered Vader royalty anyways. Was she referring to his mother, then? Did she _know_ his mother? She had never mentioned anything before, and the former identity of his father had never been a _secret_. If she had known who Anakin Skywalker’s – what? Wife? Lover? Had his parents even been married? Regardless, if she’d known who his mother was, why had she never said anything?

“Indeed he does. You knew my wife.”

That answered one question, but raised so many more. Including the concept of being royalty, especially as it seemed they were not referring to his future position as the Imperial Prince, but rather something in his heritage.

“Yes, I did,” Mon said quietly. Luke thought he heard a hint of sadness in her voice. The ensuing silence weighed heavily with memories, and Luke bit his lip, unwilling to break it. Finally, Mon coughed. “Well, it was good to hear from you, Commander Skywalker. We should make sure that the evacuation preparations are happening fast enough. Thank you for your warning. We will have plenty of time.”

“I’ll let you know when we have a meeting with Command set up,” Leia said. “Keep me updated on how you’re doing.”

“I will.” Luke’s gaze darted over to his father. He didn’t seem more impatient than usual, but Luke didn’t want to drag this out any longer. “Stay safe.”

“I think _you’re_ the one who needs to worry about staying safe,” Leia replied dryly. “You’re going to tell me next time someone tries to kill you, right?”

_How did she even learn about that?_

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Luke muttered. He tugged at the end of his sleeve, embarrassed. “And I’m _fine_.” He didn’t need Leia fussing over him too. Vader’s overbearing protectiveness was more than enough.

“Right. We’re not done talking about this, but I have to go. I will contact you.”

“Goodbye Leia, Senator.”

Luke dropped his head to rest his forehead against the edge of his bed, worried relief mingling with the last lingering vestiges of his terror. He heard Vader move behind him before a heavy hand settled on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Vader asked.

Luke raised his head and looked up at his father. “I wish you had told me sooner,” he said. He could not be angry with Vader for this. His father could not have known that the rendezvous point would endanger his friends, and Luke had been the one to distract him this morning in any case. And the warning had gone out in time. As annoying as it was for them to lose their base, at least the Alliance should get away this time without losses.

“There are many rumors of Rebel activity that are reported, and most of them are false. I followed them all, when I was searching for you. But now I am not as interested in their movements, so I disregarded the latest report. There was no mention of a potential base in it.” Vader’s words danced around an unspoken apology, and Luke gave him a small smile.

“I understand. I’m not… _mad_ at you. I’m just worried for my friends.”

“If the Princess acts on your warnings, they should be long gone by the time we arrive. You have successfully evacuated with far less warning many times before.” Luke smile grew when he felt his father’s chagrin at that.

“Not happy about how many times I slipped through your fingers?” Luke asked.

“No.” Vader held his hand out to Luke, and Luke eyed it for a second, briefly remembering another, much more traumatic time that his father had held his hand out to him. He had rejected it then, but now he reached up and grasped it, feeling the unyielding strength of Vader’s durasteel grip as he closed his hand around Luke’s and pulled him upright.

“Thanks,” Luke murmured, clinging to Vader’s hand even after his father tried to let go. He could have stood on his own, the fading adrenaline rush not strong enough to send tremors through him, but his father’s offers of physical contact came too few and far between, and he hadn’t wanted to pass up the opportunity.

Vader carefully extricated his hand from Luke’s and took a step back. Luke frowned slightly. There was no obvious reasoning behind when his father would allow contact and when he would pull away and insist on keeping a cautious distance between them.

Vader spoke before he could give much serious thought to it. “Do you – ” He cut himself off and restarted. “Are you hungry?”

Luke hadn’t really noticed, in the excitement of the morning, but though he _was_ hungry, his stomach was a little upset from all the nervous energy still thrilling through him. He shook his head.

“I’d like to do some lightsaber drills first. I’m a little jittery.” One corner of his mouth twitched up into a wry smile.

Vader inclined his head. “I will be in my office.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Luke called after him, and Vader stopped and turned back. “Uh… Thank you, Father. For letting me warn them.” He dropped his gaze to his feet. He was still just wearing socks. He would have to remember to put his boots on before he left the rooms.

“I would not risk hurting you by destroying your friends,” Vader admitted. “And if you intend to keep the Rebellion as your allies in our… coup, then it would be better if the ship you are on did not attack their base three days after your capture, no?” Luke thought he could hear a hint of a smile in his father’s voice, and he grinned in response. It wasn’t a full agreement to work with the Alliance, but it was light years better than “we will discuss this later.”

“Thank you,” Luke said again.

As though he had picked up on Luke’s thoughts, Vader raised his hand and pointed a finger at him. “I did not agree to work with them, but I would prefer it if the Rebellion’s leadership does not consider you an enemy and a target. They can be _creative_ with their assassination attempts. And while I would not expect any of them to succeed, I would rather not have to worry about you not being safe from your own side.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. Vader was acknowledging that Luke’s allegiances still lay with the Alliance. That was… good. And perhaps more than Luke had been expecting, considering his vow. But then he had made his political stance very clear.

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“The Rebellion has long since learned the folly of endeavoring to assassinate _me_. Though that does not seem to stop the occasional random attempt.”

The level of nonchalance with which Vader spoke of assassination attempts against himself made Luke’s stomach tie itself in knots. It didn’t necessarily _surprise_ him to learn that people had tried to kill his father. Kriff, even _he_ had tried, but he had never sat down and thought about it in those terms. Whenever he had dreamed of avenging Anakin Skywalker’s murder, he had always done it in battle, facing Vader in a lightsaber duel or a dogfight. Even though he knew he was no match for him in a fair fight, he had never thought about sitting somewhere with a sniper blaster and shooting him in the back.

Luke had never considered that Vader was in danger outside of battle, and even in battle he seemed invincible. The thought of his father _dying_ …

Luke shuddered. It was uncomfortable, realizing that his father wasn’t infallible, that he could be injured or even killed. He didn’t like this feeling, and it seemed unfair that he should finally learn that his father was _alive_ , and finally be reunited with him, even if it hadn’t been his original choice, only to potentially lose him again. He closed his eyes in a long blink and briefly sent a begging prayer to the Force for his father’s safety. There was no immediate danger, of course, and if he managed to negotiate a working relationship with the Alliance, then the only danger would be from the Emperor or other outside forces. Or his father’s questionable health, which Luke was now consciously aware of.

Vader took a step forward as another tremor went through Luke, reaching out almost automatically before yanking his hand back. Luke blinked away images of his father crumpling to the ground with a vibroblade buried in his chest and forced a smile.

“You don’t have to be afraid of touching me. You won’t break me.”

“I am _not_ afraid,” Vader snapped.

“Then why do you keep shying away from contact?” Luke challenged. He extended a hand towards his father, and Vader twitched, as though he had restrained himself from recoiling. Luke dropped his arm back to his side.

“I… would not think you would want my touch,” Vader said slowly. “After everything I’ve done.”

“That’s…” Luke trailed off, his quick denial dying on his tongue. It _was_ absurd, but he could sort of understand why his father would think that way, considering how negatively he tended to view himself. “Oh, Father,” he sighed. “No. I know much of what you’ve done, but… you’re still my father. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not…” he searched for the right word, trying to feel out what his father thought he should feel, “ _repulsed_ by you. Not at all.”

Luke held his hand out to his father again, palm up this time in invitation. He’d deliberately used his real left hand. Vader tilted his mask down to contemplate it, and his hands tightened convulsively around his belt where they rested. Luke smiled a little and wiggled his fingers. “Come on, Father.”

Vader slowly let go of his belt and reached out to brush his fingers against Luke’s. Luke turned his hand to slip his fingers into the gaps between his father’s, interlocking them. He clasped his father’s hand and waited until Vader slowly closed his own hand around Luke’s, then his smile widened into a full grin.

“See? I’m fine, you’re fine.” A small thrill ran through him as Vader gently rubbed his thumb against the back of Luke’s hand, the gesture tentatively affectionate. His father’s other hand came up slowly and hovered a hairsbreadth away from the side of Luke’s face for a moment before he closed the distance and rested it against his cheek and temple. The warm leather of the glove was soft against his skin.

 _“I do not deserve you,”_ Vader’s voice murmured to him through their bond.

Luke squeezed his father’s hand carefully and closed his eyes against the threatening moisture in them. He sent a gentle brush of affection to his father and felt him jerk in surprise at it, but the shock quickly changed into cautious delight. It was by far the most Light emotion Luke had yet sensed from his father, and that felt like progress to him. Any doubts he might still have had about the plausibility of his plan to save his father disappeared.

 _“Maybe you don’t,”_ Luke said, _“but I don’t care.”_

Vader’s hand moved to push a lock of Luke’s hair away from his face. _“You truly do not resent me?”_ he asked softly.

“Truly,” Luke said, closing his eyes and briefly tilting his head into his father’s hand. They stood in a comfortable, affectionate silence for a moment, before Vader shifted slightly.

“I should… allow you to practice your forms,” he said. But his hand moved again, this time to run his fingers through Luke’s hair. The gesture was cautious, as though he was afraid Luke would protest. But Luke just smiled, remembering Aunt Beru doing the same when he was younger, and he wondered if it was an instinctive parental action.

“Do you want to critique?” Luke asked. He knew his forms were good; Yoda had drilled them fairly thoroughly into him, and Obi-Wan had introduced the concepts during Luke’s brief time as his apprentice. He was better at his forms than actual combat, as Cymoon-1 and Bespin had taught him, but he was sure there were still things that could be improved upon with his forms, especially some of the more complicated ones, ones Yoda had not had as much time to teach him.

“I do not currently have time. And you will be better able to concentrate if I am not there,” his father said. Luke thought he felt a little reluctance from him at this.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We _will_ train together, but not now. I do not know how likely a lightsaber duel with the Emperor will be, as he tends to favor using the Force as his weapon, but it is best to be prepared. He may be old, but the Force allows him to still be far more formidable than you might expect.”

Luke nodded. He knew it wouldn’t be wise to underestimate the man who had manipulated his way to power and overthrew the Republic that had stood for many thousands of years, destroying the entire Jedi Order in the process.

“And lightsaber combat is a skill you should be proficient at in any case. The Emperor is not the only enemy we will have to face.”


	13. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's several pages of Vader introspection, Luke and Vader are probably more mentally connected than they realize, which leads to them musing over several of the same difficult topics. Piett gets a surprise that's not entirely pleasant, and General Veers makes an entrance. There's also a small bit of action in this chapter.
> 
> This chapter is subtitled "Piett has a very bad day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. I have a new job that is taking up most of my time, and I got hit with several bad cases of writer's block while trying to write this chapter. But here it is, and I hope it is worth the wait.
> 
> I also finally made a Wattpad account, because several people asked for one, so _Allegiance_ is up there too, under the same username.
> 
> And a huge thanks to my beta, miriannemiri for all her invaluable help.

As soon as Vader left, Luke relocated to his sitting room. Until his father decided to allow him access to a proper training room, this would have to do. He should have asked, but his father had already been out the door by the time he had thought about it. Luke had already stopped him from leaving once, so he didn’t want to delay him further by calling him back.

Luke left his cape off this time, not wanting to deal with it. Maybe if he protested that it hindered his ability to fight, he could convince his father that he didn’t need to wear it. Though considering Vader’s own cape, he doubted that excuse would fly.

 _At least_ _**his** doesn’t awkwardly cover his arm! _he thought as he ignited his lightsaber. He did understand its purpose, he really did; he just didn’t want to have to continue to wear it after it was no longer necessary to hide his lightsaber.

This time, Luke managed to keep his focus on his forms, placing his feet carefully and deliberately, not allowing himself to be distracted. He could feel the Force moving around him and through him, almost a tangible thing though not entirely solid, like water. It didn’t control his motions like it sometimes seemed to during battle, but it lent him perfect balance and a heightened awareness of his body. It was always invigorating, feeling that kind of connection to the Force. And while it wasn’t rare for him to experience it, it didn’t happen all the time either. It was often when he was practicing his lightsaber, and Yoda had called it a type of moving meditation.

Luke lost track of time, but when he was done running through his forms, he was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. As tired as he was, the movement had felt good after so much inactivity the last few days. He had been pretty good about keeping to a training schedule these last few months since Bespin, working on improving both his lightsaber combat and his Force use in addition to his usual flight training with his squadron. He was determined to keep to some semblance of this schedule in the future, depending on what his father would have planned for his daily routine. He wasn’t sure how much Vader would want him to play the soldier, if he would be given a rank in the military and expected to fulfill all the duties that came with it, or if his unique status would prevent that.

His father had admitted that it would be foolish to ground him, so that _did_ imply he would be allowed to fly in some capacity. But he would never consent to actually fight against the Alliance’s pilots. He could not kill his friends, and he couldn’t imagine Vader would risk him in an unshielded TIE against pilots as skilled as Rogue Squadron in any case. Wedge was nearly his equal as a pilot, and he knew the slight edge he had on him was only thanks to the Force. If he flew against him in a TIE, he did not doubt that Wedge would come out the victor. And as much as he hoped he would be able to tell Wedge the truth, and even though they would probably be able to recognize each other’s flight styles, there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t accidentally end up engaging each other during a dogfight.

Luke sighed and brushed his damp hair off his forehead. _I’m sorry, Wedge,_ he thought. He had promised him that he hadn’t been compromised on Bespin, and he had also told him that he wasn’t going undercover. And while the former was still, probably, true, the latter was… decidedly not. Though of course it had been at the time.

He suppressed his desire to pull out his comlink and contact Wedge right then. The fewer people in the Alliance he was in direct contact with the better. It was safer that way, as frustrating as it would be. He would just have to ask Leia to tell Wedge the next time he commed her.

Luke glanced up at the chrono on the wall. Morning was edging towards afternoon, and he was really beginning to notice his empty stomach. It had been… too long since he had last eaten. And now that he had worked the nervous energy out, he was feeling the hunger.

He didn’t know if his father had planned on having food brought up for him or if he would take him to some, probably private, officers’ lounge or mess hall or something. He was leaning towards the former, knowing how protective Vader was over him, and he doubted his father wanted the questions displaying him in front of even a small number of crew would bring.

That would get annoying fast, being stuck in this set of rooms for however long it took his father to prepare an announcement. Even though his quarters were large, he would be restless and bored with nowhere different to go. But he knew it could be worse. His short stint as a prisoner at the beginning of this misadventure had given him an appreciation for how much freedom he _did_ have now, comparatively, and he was grateful. Both for the relative freedom and his unique status that prevented him from being just a prisoner. He would be dead by now, at the hands of Lieutenant-Commander Ozzel, or if someone else had intervened, he would be in the middle of a rather rigorous interrogation that he probably wouldn’t long survive.

He had been extensively trained against interrogation, his large, alive-only bounty making High Command nervous about his chances of successfully evading the Empire forever, especially after his close call at Bespin. Luke was glad he would never need that training.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the morbid thoughts. He would _never need_ that training, so there was no use dwelling on it. And hopefully, he would be able to convince his father that they needed to dismantle the Empire after they killed the Emperor, so no one would ever need that kind of training again.

He expected some resistance from Vader about that. Even if he denounced the Emperor, he was still a staunch believer in the Empire itself, and Luke could only hope that his threat to leave if his father took the throne would be enough. He needed to have a serious discussion with his father about their future, and soon. Neither of them wanted an argument, and Luke suspected that was why his father kept putting it off, but they needed to come to an agreement or risk not being ready after the final confrontation. It was better to have a plan in place _before_ they took control of the government, or they wouldn’t be able to hold it. And they also needed allies, and they would only be able to count on the Alliance if they were going to destroy the Empire in the end. It would be better to have that settled by the time Leia set up his meeting with High Command, so he would know what to tell them and, he shuddered, if he needed to request an extraction.

He didn’t _think_ it would come to that, as his father seemed to value him highly enough to compromise, but he had to be prepared in case Vader decided he wanted the throne in the end. As much as Luke didn’t want to, he knew he would have to carry out his threat to leave if that happened, and he might need help doing it. If Vader wasn’t willing to let him go, then he would need to escape, and he probably couldn’t do that alone. Not from the _Executor_.

Luke frowned. His thoughts were getting away from him. He had to believe it wouldn’t come to that. And there was no point in worrying needlessly. He would deal with it if it happened. No reason to stress about something that might not happen when there were enough certainties to concern himself with. Like the fact that regardless of where he ended up, High Command, and Leia, would know of his parentage, and that he would still need to face the Emperor in the end.

Or on a much more trivial topic, that he would never get lunch if he didn’t tell his father he was almost ready.

~*~

Vader was unsure, now, how to respond to Luke. He had felt the boy slip into a moving meditation as he practiced his forms, the bright sun of his presence going nova against the backdrop of the Force, and Vader found he was already getting used to the overwhelming light of his son. He had been like that once, almost too bright to look at in the Force when he was fully submerged in it, or so he had been told. And though it was obvious Luke did not have trouble meditating in stillness, as Vader had in his younger days, it appeared they both enjoyed a moving variant. They were much alike, and therein lay the problem.

Luke felt too much and loved the wrong people, as he had a lifetime ago. But unlike Vader, he had no issues voicing his emotions plainly, and Vader could not deny what Luke had openly stated. He did not, _could not_ , understand how Luke could love him, but that he _did_ could no longer be in question.

The problem was further complicated by the fact that Vader was unable to reciprocate. Luke had also made it clear that he hadn’t expected him to, but Vader hadn’t missed his son’s disappointment when he had turned away from him.

Vader abandoned his desk, unable to continue pretending he was reading through the stack of reports, and stalked over to the viewport before realizing that it was the same thing he had done to Luke. He growled and turned away from the blue streaks of hyperspace, leaving his office to retreat farther into his rooms, putting more space between himself and his foolish, precious son.

That Vader was already beginning to care about Luke could also no longer be denied. That knowledge unnerved him, partly because it had been so long since he had felt this way towards another being, and everyone he had ever loved he had destroyed, but also because it put Luke in danger. If the Emperor sensed Vader’s… _weakness_ for his son, he would move to separate them sooner than he might have otherwise. Or he would simply destroy Luke, choosing not to risk the consequences of allowing the bond between them to grow beyond his ability to break it.

That would _not_ happen. Vader would tear his Master apart with nothing but his hands before he allowed him to lay so much as a finger on Luke. He knew he would most likely die in the attempt, if they were not properly prepared for the final confrontation, which made concealing his emotions even more imperative. They could not afford to move against the Emperor before they were ready.

Vader strengthened his shields. The Emperor’s attention was not focused on him, and he took care not to attract it with the sudden intensification of his shields. Keeping them up against his Master if he requested entry would only arouse suspicion, but they would help to avoid stray thoughts and emotions slipping into the bond chaining him to the Emperor.

He wanted to break that bond, wanted to feel the roots of it wound deeply into his mind wither and die as he snapped it by driving a blade through Palpatine’s shriveled heart. Vader allowed himself a moment to revel in the thought. He had not contemplated this potential freedom since before Bespin. Luke had snatched away his last remaining vestiges of hope for it when he jumped, and Vader knew he had been dangerously close to complete apathy regarding his fate until he had felt Luke’s mind brush against his in his call for help. He knew it was foolish to pin everything on another being, but he also knew down to the core of his being that he could not defeat the Emperor alone, something Palpatine taunted him with on a regular basis. For all that he lauded the Banite Sith’s Rule of Two, he rejected the inevitability of the apprentice rising against the master and gloried in Vader’s inability and seeming disinterest in fulfilling that aspect of the cycle. There were times, since he had learned of his Master’s deception regarding the cause of his wife’s demise, that he wondered if the Emperor had not _planned_ on diminishing his apprentice’s power in some way, though he doubted he would have chosen to damage him _this_ much.

For all that his Master desired Luke, he also feared him, with good reason. Luke was everything Vader could have been, young and powerful and healthy. Those same traits that made him a worthy choice for a new apprentice also made him dangerous. Despite the Emperor’s strength and power in the Force, he was old, and his body was weakening, though he was not nearly as frail as he pretended to be. Luke would most likely not be able to defeat the Emperor alone, but he could still deal more damage than the Emperor would like to take before going down.

Vader clenched his fists at the image of Luke attempting to fend off the Emperor’s lightning, blue energy crackling against Luke’s lightsaber, lethal tendrils slipping past his defenses and snaking around his body. For a moment, Vader felt the echoes of that pain, having experienced the excruciating burn of Sith lightning far too many times throughout his life. The intensity of the Emperor’s far outstripped Dooku’s, and Vader knew he had never even taken the full brunt of it. If he had, the likelihood was high that he would be dead. His Master was always careful to never short out his life support completely.

Luke had never been subjected to that level of pain. Even losing a limb could not compare to the agony of lightning ripping into flesh, scorching bones, setting fire to nerves. It was one of the most painful things Vader had experienced, second only to burning on the gravel shores of Mustafar.

He shied away from those memories and quickly tried to banish the thought of Luke suffering through _that_. There was no reason for Luke to set foot on Mustafar. The Inquisitorius facility had long since been shut down, after they had been wiped out by Maul, Ahsoka, and the Lothal Rebels almost half a dozen years ago, and Vader would never relegate Luke to a mere Inquisitor regardless, even if he _had_ still intended to train Luke in the Dark Side. And Vader rarely spent time at his fortress there, having no need for the medical facility now that the _Executor_ was complete and had one to rival it, and he did not have to deal with the Emperor’s Royal Guards watching him while he was on his ship.

Of course, there were numerous other ways for Luke to be injured by fire, but Vader chose to ignore that through an extreme effort of will. Luke was safe in his keeping now, no longer at risk from anything except the Emperor. Though as Luke had pointed out, Vader _would_ need to involve him in military matters once he claimed Luke as his son and installed him in his rightful place in the Empire, at his side and as his heir. They could not avoid having Luke fight in some capacity, as much as Vader would prefer to keep him confined somewhere safe.

The most logical thing would be to put him in charge of a fighter squadron. Luke was a pilot, and something of an infamous one at that. To hold him back from military duties would be to steal the respect he would otherwise earn in the eyes of not only the Empire’s troops but also its citizens. If Vader intended to carry through with his plan of placing Luke on the throne in his stead, his son needed to own the loyalty of at least a large portion of the military, and he needed to endear himself to the public. Showing a willingness to fight for the Empire, to strive towards stability in the Galaxy, would be not only helpful but perhaps necessary, considering his Rebellious history. They could not successfully sell his defection if he refused to fight for the Empire.

Vader would need to retrieve the other TIE Advanced. He would never allow Luke to fly an unshielded ship in combat. He also doubted that he could convince Luke to kill his former squadron mates or other Alliance pilots, and for the sake of Luke’s budding trust in him, he would not ask him to. They could bleed the power from his lasers, leaving just enough to splash against an X-wing’s shields without damaging them, and feed it to his own shields. That would be a compromise Luke should agree to, and suggesting it outright would forestall an argument and help build Luke’s confidence that he had not made a mistake in allying with his father.

He would also eventually need to tell Luke of his plans to put him on the throne. Luke had sworn to leave him if _he_ tried to take it, but Vader had never wanted it for himself. He was content in his role as second-in-command and the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy. The throne itself had never held appeal for him, and he wanted it only to give it to those he cared about. He refused to acknowledge the idea that Luke would reject it as his mother had. Luke would rule with a strong but fair hand, just as she would have, and he would be beloved, as she had been. Luke was _his_ son in many ways, but he had her gentle temperament and strength of conviction.

And her faith in the innate goodness in people. She had pleaded with him to come back with her, declaring her love for him even up to the moment he had wrapped the Force around her throat. He did not know, and he never would, if she would have forgiven him for that, for killing her, for nearly killing their child. Their child who somehow loved him.

Vader sighed behind his mask. Part of him wanted to retreat from Luke, not allow the boy any more purchase on his heart, fearing the effect it would have on him. A small part of that came from worries about what it would do to him if he lost Luke later, if he allowed himself to care now without restraint. But he knew it was already too late for that. The stirrings of fierce, parental protectiveness he felt for his son had begun, in small ways, the moment he had learned of Luke’s existence and had only become stronger since he had actually met him. Vader knew he was hardly the only one to fall victim to Luke’s charms. The boy seemed to inspire loyalty and devotion wherever he went, which would serve him well when Vader elevated him to Imperial Prince.

He also knew he did not deserve Luke’s love, and despite Luke’s insistence that he did not care about anything Vader had done, there was always a chance he would change his mind or learn about something he could not look past. As the emotional high of finding his father faded and the pressures of living among people he still considered enemies wore on him, he might begin to resent Vader and decide the price was too high for the uncertain resolution this course of action would bring. Insulating himself against that eventuality would be prudent and would make it easier on both of them when Luke decided to cut ties and return to his Rebellion.

The other part of Vader wanted to accept what Luke was offering, embrace him as his son with all that entailed, even though he knew that he and Luke could never have what others would consider a typical father-son relationship. That option was enticing, even as it was terrifying, and Vader knew it was too late to trick himself into thinking he did not care about Luke.

 _But convincing my Master might require convincing Luke._ Even as he thought it, he knew it would not be possible. With as deep of a connection as Luke had with him, keeping his emotions completely shielded from him would be more tiring than was strategically wise. And continuing to rebuff Luke would only hurt their bond and their alliance, when they needed it to be as strong as possible, if they wanted to stand a chance against the Emperor. Any division between them would be a weakness the Emperor would exploit. Any doubt Luke held for his father would be a foothold for the Emperor, a crack which he could and would widen with poisonous words and half truths, and Luke would fall easily into his grasp. By the time he realized what was happening, he would be too tightly ensnared to struggle free.

No, the only option open to Vader was to accept Luke’s admission of love and attempt to return it, without allowing his Master to learn of it. Shielding from him would not be as difficult as it would be from Luke, because even as deep as that insidious bond went, his connection with Luke was stronger and far more intimate. Luke was also far more insistent, constantly seeking contact and desiring access to Vader’s emotions, though he had yet to push against his shields when Vader made it clear he did not want to allow Luke in. His Master was more distant, and though he took an active interest in monitoring any changes in Vader’s emotional state and was more likely to break down Vader’s shields if he so desired, his attention was intermittent, and Vader had long since become wise to the tricks his Master used. It would be difficult for him to slip into Vader’s mind unnoticed.

He would need to teach Luke how to shield more consistently. _His_ mind might be relatively safe from the Emperor, despite the bond, but his son was not currently trained enough to be able to keep the Emperor out. That would normally be an easy thing to rectify. Luke had enough innate power to match the Emperor; it was simply a matter of practice and of teaching him to recognize his Master’s tricks.

But practice would entail allowing Vader access to Luke’s mind and permitting him to repeatedly break down Luke’s shields. It would not only be an invasion of privacy, but would also be quite painful. Vader had felt little remorse for inflicting that pain on Piett, as it had been a necessity and caused no permanent damage to his Admiral, but _Luke_ … He had hurt his son enough, so it would be difficult for Vader to do even with Luke’s permission, which he would first need to earn Luke’s unwavering trust in order to gain. He somehow could not bring himself to consider the necessity of this more important than Luke’s wellbeing, as he had with Piett. Perhaps it had something to do with his burgeoning parental instincts, but he longed to prevent damage from happening to Luke, not cause it.

Vader sighed. None of this circuitous thinking was going to help him come up with a way to convince Luke that he did, indeed, care about him. He had never been good with words, and he doubted words would be enough to counteract a lifetime of violence and indifference in any case, not to mention the personal damage he had dealt to Luke. He would need to prove it in actions, and that would be far more difficult to hide from the eyes of his Master and the Galaxy.

A hesitant knock on the door drew Vader from his thoughts. He whirled around, startled at the knock on _that_ door, as it meant someone was already in his office, before recognizing the Force presence. His son. Vader realized he’d had his shields up so tightly that he hadn’t heard Luke’s timid mental request for entrance.

Vader stalked over to the door. Even if words wouldn’t be enough, he needed to _say_ something to Luke, tell him something that would let the boy know he was not indifferent to him, or to his admission of love. But the moment the door opened and Vader caught sight of his son’s somewhat embarrassed face, any inadequate words he might have summoned fled him.

How could he possibly convince his son of his sincerity? And if he did, what then?

Before he could wrestle his thoughts into enough semblance of order to form words, Luke spoke. “I, uh, you said something about food?” he asked, giving Vader a small smile.

“Yes,” Vader said. The mundane request helped him focus, helped him return his mind to the present and problems he _could_ solve. Providing lunch for his son was considerably less complicated than working out the fate of the Galaxy and the nuances of their developing relationship.

He gave Luke’s appearance a quick assessment and frowned behind his mask. His clothes were fine, though he was not wearing the cape or boots, but his hair was damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. Vader hesitated for a moment, then reached out and brushed it away from Luke’s eyes. “Go clean up first.”

Luke grinned. “So I _do_ get to leave my room,” he said as he turned to head back to his own quarters. “No reason to look nice if I’m stuck here.”

Vader didn’t respond, but he allowed a whisper of fondness to trickle into the bond as Luke disappeared beyond the door. He felt rather than saw Luke smile in response.

He needed to tell Piett the truth about Luke, and he might as well have the Admiral bring Luke to the officers’ lounge for lunch. Luke was doing a good job of hiding it, but Vader knew he was starting to get restless confined to his room. Even though Vader would prefer to keep Luke away from the curiosity of the rest of the crew until he made the official announcement, he could not keep Luke locked up for a week.

He trusted that Piett would not allow anything to happen. He was sure of his Admiral’s loyalty. And though Luke had inherited the Skywalker proclivity for finding trouble, Piett was capable and, Vader had to admit, used to dealing with Vader’s own… _adventures_. And Vader would only be a mental call away if anything truly serious happened.

Vader followed Luke back out to his office, though the boy had already gone into his own room, and reached for his private comlink to request Piett’s presence. His Admiral would be prompt in responding to his summons and would most likely arrive well before Luke was ready, but Vader thought it might be wise to inform Piett beforehand, give him a prior warning before properly introducing him to Luke. Vader was unsure how much his Admiral had figured out on his own. Certainly, he had not guessed at the exact nature of his and Luke’s relationship, but the man was no fool. He would not be in his position if he was.

As expected, Piett wasted no time in responding to Vader’s summons and was soon standing in front of the door to his quarters. Vader did not wait for him to press the door chime but opened it from where he stood across the room. His Admiral’s face remained stoic even as the door slid open with his hand hovering inches above the panel set in the wall next to it. He was used to this by now.

Piett entered the room and paused inside the door, just beyond the sensors, and waited for it to close behind him before he came forward.

“You wanted to see me, my Lord?” Piett asked, standing at attention several feet away from Vader. As usual, his shields were impeccable, despite his complete lack of Force sensitivity. He was calm; his gloved hands at his sides were not clenched into fists or toying with the hem of his uniform, his eyes did not dart around the room. If he was feeling any fear, it was not apparent to Vader. One of the many reasons he had chosen Piett as his Admiral. It was refreshing, to have an officer who was not terrified of him, even if most of that lack of fear was a product of their bargain.

“Yes, Admiral. There is a matter of considerable importance that needs to be discussed. I – ” Vader cut himself off as the door between his and Luke’s room opened and his son stepped back in, tousling hair damp from a quick shower. He was again dressed in his black outfit, and still minus the cape, Vader noted with amused interest.

“Father, I – ” Luke stopped speaking, freezing in place as he noticed Piett. His eyes, wide now with horror, darted back and forth between Vader and the Admiral. But for once, Vader’s attention was not focused on Luke. He was gauging Piett’s reaction.

The Admiral’s body was tense, his spine straight as a saber, and like Luke, his eyes were skipping between the two other men in the room. One foot had shifted backwards, a stance Vader recognized as born from a desire to run, and he felt his officer’s fear for the first time in months. His breath came fast, and he swallowed nervously as his eyes finally settled on his commander.

Underlying Piett’s fear was a deep undercurrent of shock. That was the emotion Vader had expected from him, and if he had been able to tell him as he had planned, it would have been the dominant emotion. As it was, Piett’s fear of knowing something he should not outweighed his amazement at the revelation that Darth Vader had a Rebel son, had a son _at all._

His posture was a near mirror of Luke’s, and regardless of his annoyance that despite everything Piett was again afraid of him, Vader found this highly amusing. One corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. Luke must have felt his humor because his eyes settled on his mask, and his brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Well, this was not _entirely_ how I had planned for you to find out, but since this was why I summoned you, there was no harm done,” Vader said, attempting to ease the tension in the room. These were the two people in the Galaxy he did _not_ want to fear him, and dragging this out for any longer would only prolong Piett’s suffering. “Admiral Piett, meet Luke Skywalker, _my son_.”

The tension slowly bled from Piett’s body, and he let out a long breath as he turned his now curious gaze back to Luke. The boy had finally dropped his hand from his hair and relaxed his rigid stance. He offered Piett an apologetic grin.

“Ah, well, that does explain some things, my Lord.” The Admiral found his voice, though it was weaker than normal.

“This is still classified information, Admiral, until I make a formal announcement, but it is something I believed you should be aware of.”

“Of – of course, my Lord,” Piett stammered. “Thank you.”

Vader nodded, satisfied. His Admiral’s fear appeased, he turned his attention back to Luke.

“That was reckless, young one.” Luke dropped his gaze, his face flushed with embarrassment, and kicked at the floor with the toe of his boot. “You need to be more mindful of your surroundings.”

“Yes… Father.” He hesitated before saying the word again, and Vader winced. He did not want Luke to be afraid of calling him “Father” now. Even though he had lost count of the times the word had crossed his son’s lips, there was still a part of him that thrilled at the sound of it. He had never imagined, after Mustafar, that it would ever be a title directed at him.

 _“I’m not afraid,”_ Luke said, most likely sensing Vader’s uncertainty and always quick to reassure. _“Just… embarrassed. I never did like being reprimanded.”_

Vader closed his eyes in relief, but couldn’t help his smirk at Luke’s explanation. _“No one does,”_ he responded dryly. _“It was foolish and impulsive, however, I did give you permission to enter this room freely, and you had no reason to suspect that I was not alone. You need to be more cautious in the future, but there was no harm done this time. And that was a rather amusing way to inform Admiral Piett of the truth. I could not have planned that better.”_ He could have easily stopped Luke from speaking, if he had wanted to, but the opportunity had been too great to pass up.

Luke fought back a smile. _“I’m pretty sure I got my dramatic flair from you, Father.”_

_“You should have seen your mother.”_

Vader ignored Luke’s suddenly wide eyes and burning curiosity and turned back to Piett instead. He knew his statement would only bring his son’s questions down on him later, but he could not bring himself to regret it. Some part of him was aware that he could not keep Padmé’s identity a secret from Luke forever, and so far Luke only knew about the bad things that had happened to her. As much as it would hurt, Vader wanted to share the good things about her with their son, tell him of her beauty and courage and intelligence, how she could stir an apathetic and dithering Senate into action with a simple speech –

Vader shut the memories down quickly. Now was not the time to dwell on such things, not when he had other pressing matters to attend to. There would be time for that later, when he and Luke were alone and his Admiral wasn’t watching them with more than a little warranted confusion. Even if they were father and son, the second-in-command of the Empire and the hero of the Rebellion should not be on this friendly of terms.

“We will need to meet later to discuss this in more detail, but be aware, Admiral, that some of our plans have now been set into motion. Luke is the catalyst that we have been waiting for, and now that he has… joined us, we can move forward.”

Piett glanced over at Luke, who was now standing awkwardly in the doorway between their rooms, listening to their conversation with a small frown on his face.

“You renounced the Rebellion?” Piett asked. His eyes were wide with surprise.

Luke’s eyes skittered to Vader, a clear question on his face.

 _“As I have said, Piett has my full confidence,”_ Vader reassured him, giving him a small nod.

“Not exactly,” Luke admitted. He walked farther into the room to stand at Vader’s side. “But we have a common enemy, and I do not want to fight my father. We are still… debating the final outcome of this conflict.”

Piett nodded, his expression clearing. “That… makes more sense. I never would have thought that Luke Skywalker, of all people, would willingly join the Empire.”

“And yet, we will need to convince the Galaxy of just that,” Luke said. He turned his head to look up at Vader again.

“He will be publically named as my heir within the week,” Vader continued the explanation, “officially joining the ranks of the Empire as second in line for the throne after myself.” He could not suppress the jolt of anticipation that thought brought. It would not be long before the entire Galaxy knew that Luke was his. His son, his heir. Luke could take his rightful place as a prince, as _the_ prince of the Empire, and his child would finally be afforded the respect he was due.

“And the Emperor?” Piett asked.

“He approved it.” Of course, he had not told the Emperor of his plans to instate his son as the Imperial heir, merely his desire to claim Luke as his son. Vader knew his Master would not be pleased with him for taking that liberty, but it would be easy to say that he had interpreted “claim the boy” to mean claiming him fully. And simply calling Luke his son would not accomplish what his Master desired with this ploy. He wanted Luke to be completely cut off from the Rebellion. The only way to do that would be to convince them that Luke had flipped his loyalties to the Empire, which Luke accepting and embracing the title of Imperial Prince would achieve.

Vader glanced at Luke for his reaction to this. He had not yet had a chance to tell his son about the outcome of his discussion with the Emperor.

“Why?” Luke gaped, surprise singing along their bond.

“I told him it would drive a wedge between you and the Rebellion, prevent you from returning to them and help facilitate your fall.”

Luke considered that for a moment. “He bought it?”

“He appeared to.”

“Good.” Luke grinned, the expression a little more vicious than Vader had yet seen on the boy.

“What _are_ you planning on doing with the Rebellion?” Piett asked, his voice hesitant.

“I’m going to contact High Command and tell them exactly what’s going on,” Luke said. “We will be… working with them, sort of. Well, I’m hoping we will anyways. As I said, common enemy. We all want the Emperor gone.”

“Indeed,” Piett said. “Though I doubt they will be much happier once Lord Vader takes the throne.”

Vader restrained himself from revealing his intentions to place Luke on the throne instead. That was still a conversation he needed to have with his son before involving anyone else. It would be difficult to convince Luke to take and hold the throne, especially in the light of his near agreement to work with the Rebellion. Though he had resigned himself to cooperating with them, considering Luke’s terms, Vader was none too eager to see the rise of another Republic, and he would do what he could to prevent it.

He knew the Rebellion would never agree to work with them if _he_ claimed the right to the throne after overthrowing Palpatine, but if _Luke_ were the one to take the crown, perhaps with a hybrid government of some sort…

“No, and I wouldn’t be either.” Luke’s firm voice cut into his musings, and he shot Vader a warning look.

 _“We will discuss this after you return from lunch,”_ Vader promised him. This was something that needed to be straightened out before Luke had his meeting with the Rebellion’s High Command, and the longer Vader waited to bring it up, the more likely Luke would be to distrust his intentions.

 _“At least we finally have a timeframe for this discussion,”_ Luke said, a hint of a smile softening the glare on his face.

Admiral Piett’s eyes skipped between them, as they had done whenever he witnessed Vader communicating mentally with his son.

“Perhaps this is a discussion you would like to have privately?” Piett asked, deference in his tone.

“No. We will have it later.” Vader turned back to Piett. “For now, escort Luke to the officers’ lounge. He has not yet eaten.”

Luke grinned as Piett looked at him. “Sounds like I get to hold off finding out whose rations are better.”

Piett’s eyes widened briefly, flickering over to Vader for a moment in uncertainty before he gave a short laugh. “I can guarantee the officers’ food is better than either.”

“I can easily believe that,” Luke said. “Alliance rations have a tendency to be both bland and sometimes hard to come by.” He gave Vader a small shrug and a sheepish smile when he turned to look at him, and Vader resolved to have Luke tested for nutrient deficiencies. He _was_ rather thin…

 _“Try not to scandalize my Admiral_ _**too much** , Luke,”_ Vader said. _“And do not give out your name unnecessarily.”_

Luke frowned. _“How am I supposed to do that? I can’t exactly not introduce myself. They’re going to be curious.”_

Vader turned to address Piett. “Introduce him only as Luke. Anything else is classified.”

“That’s not going to work, Father, and you know it. My face is too well known.”

“There is no need to advertise who you are,” Vader growled. “Many will not be pleased to have the destroyer of the Death Star loose on this ship, and until it is revealed that you are my son and you have the protection that status will provide, there may be some who will feel inclined to do something about your presence here.”

“Fine,” Luke said. “If you think it’s necessary.”

Vader nodded, relieved to have Luke’s agreement, reluctant though it was, without much of a fight. He was probably right, that it wouldn’t help much, but Vader was going to do everything he could to keep Luke as safe as possible.

He turned to Piett. “Admiral?”

“Yes, my Lord. Understood.”

~*~

Luke could feel Piett’s eyes flicker towards him every few steps as they walked down the corridor to the turbolift, though he still could not sense the curiosity he must have been feeling. He suppressed a smile.

“Go ahead, you can ask.”

Piett coughed uncomfortably, presumably not having realized Luke was aware of his gaze. “I’m sorry, sir – ”

“Luke.”

“What?”

“Just call me Luke, please.”

Piett hesitated. “We are not yet in front of an audience – ”

No longer able to restrain it, the corner of Luke’s mouth twitched up into a smile. “I am aware, Admiral. This is a personal request, not a reminder of my father’s orders.”

Piett stopped, and Luke turned to look at him. The Admiral was silent for a long moment, and his voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “You are the son of my Lord. It would be disrespectful to be so informal with you.”

“Even if I ask you to?” Luke frowned. This adherence to what was considered proper address in Imperial society was going to get old quickly. The Alliance was much more relaxed about such things, and it was something Luke had appreciated. The command structures were still respected, but no one would be court-martialed for spending downtime with their subordinates or written up for addressing their superior by their given name. Luke knew the Imperial military was much stricter, but if no one with a different rank would be allowed or willing to associate with him in any sort of personal manner, he was going to get lonely very quickly. Aside from his father, the Admiral was the closest to him in rank on the ship, and if even _he_ was keeping that careful distance… Though Luke supposed it would be too much to ask his father’s most loyal officer to drop his respectful formality with him, especially now that he knew exactly who Luke was, and Luke didn’t want to alienate one of his few allies on the ship.

Piett refused to look at him, and Luke sighed. “You may call me Commander if it makes you more comfortable.” Luke settled for his Alliance-given rank, being called by his rank still seeming awkward but not entirely uncomfortable. It was better than “sir,” in any case, and perhaps other officers would feel more at ease around him if he was more visible as a commander rather than a prince.

“Commander, then,” Piett said.

“Well, now that we have that settled, you still haven’t asked me anything,” Luke prompted after another long moment of silence. There was a tension between them that hadn’t been present during their time together on the bridge. Luke knew he was being judged differently now. Piett was struggling to reconcile Luke with his father and whatever image Piett had conjured for what the son of Darth Vader _should_ be like. And perhaps the Admiral was wondering if Luke’s calm personality was a façade, if he would let it fall away and become more like Vader now that the truth was out.

It was also likely that Piett was still wary of him thanks to his careless slip, one that could have cost the Admiral his life if he had been anyone else, and the memory of it threatened to bring a blush back to Luke’s cheeks. It had been a stupid mistake, one Luke was embarrassed to have made in front of his father. He was better than that. He had been with the Alliance for several months after Bespin, and he had never come close to accidentally revealing the truth. Being around his father, and having the opportunity to be open with the knowledge of their relationship, must have dropped his guard and loosened his tongue.

“Right,” Piett said. “Ah, I cannot understand why, if you knew Lord Vader was your father, you kept running from him. You seem content enough to be here now.”

Luke blinked. That wasn’t what he had been expecting. Then again, he wasn’t really sure _what_ he’d been expecting.

“I’ve only known since Bespin,” he admitted. “And after that fight, I didn’t particularly want to go with him.” He clenched his right hand into a fist automatically, and Piett’s eyes were drawn to the movement. The Admiral frowned in confusion for a moment when Luke held his hand up, then his eyes widened as he put it together.

“He…” Piett trailed off, and he looked away from Luke for a moment. “Before or after?” he asked softly.

“Right before. Neither of us handled the situation particularly well.” He tugged at the edge of the cape, which his father had insisted he retrieve, along with his lightsaber, before he was allowed out of the room with Piett. “It’s been difficult, coming to terms with it over the past few months. But now that I’m here, he hasn’t been what I was expecting.” Luke smiled and looked over at Piett, who finally met his eyes again. Luke shrugged. “He’s been respectful of me and is willing to compromise. I never would have thought… well…” He gestured back at the door to his father’s quarters, and Piett nodded.

“Lord Vader is not a man to give anything.” Piett gave Luke a thoughtful look. “But perhaps your presence will begin to temper him.”

Luke laughed and ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed. “I’d like to say I don’t think I have that kind of influence over him, but I think that would be a lie.” He knew it was within his power to stop Darth Vader from killing a man, and that was a feat he hadn’t thought _anyone_ capable of.

“I have never seen him interact with anyone the way he does with you. He is… attentive of you, focused in a way he isn’t with anyone else. I think you have a great deal of influence over him.”

Luke studied Piett, hearing the subtle undercurrents of… was that protectiveness? in the Admiral’s voice. Protectiveness, or worry. It wasn’t jealousy, though the fact that it was close enough to it gave Luke pause, and he wished Piett’s mind wasn’t so heavily shielded. He knew his father trusted Piett, but he hadn’t anticipated the Admiral caring enough about Vader to be worried about Luke’s influence over him.

“I won’t abuse it,” Luke promised softly. “I have no desire to hurt my father.”

Piett stared at him for a long moment, judging his sincerity, before he nodded sharply. “Good.”

He resumed his progress down the corridor, and Luke jogged the first few steps to catch up with him. Luke could see why his father trusted Piett. His defensiveness of Vader was unusual, from what Luke understood of the Imperial military. As far as the Alliance could tell, Imperials respected Vader for his military prowess and feared him for his temper and abilities. He was the right hand of the Emperor, the Fist of the Empire. They would follow him, and many were loyal to him insofar as he represented the Empire, but none would dare to defend him in personal matters, or care about his emotional wellbeing. Half the people in the Galaxy doubted Vader was even human.

Luke waited until they were in the turbolift before speaking again. “How long have you known my father?”

“I’ve been serving under him for about five years,” Piett said, “but he had been following my career for years before that, though I’m not entirely certain when he first noticed me. We met several times before I was officially transferred to the _Accuser_ , but it wasn’t until I was working under him directly that I began to get to know him.”

Luke felt an unexpected sting of jealousy. “You’ve known him for much longer than I have. You probably know him better than I do.”

Piett tilted his head to regard Luke. “It’s possible, but you share something with him I’ll never have. I may know him better than anyone else in the Empire, save the Emperor himself, but that doesn’t mean I know him _well_. And I believe you are deeper in his confidences than I will ever be.” Piett smiled. “As it should be.”

The turbolift slowed to a stop, and the door slid open. Luke was distracted from his reply to Piett’s last comment by the sudden attention and curiosity of the officers and stormtroopers in the corridor. None stopped their progress to stare at him, thankfully, but Luke knew rumors about him were already beginning to circulate around the _Executor_. He sensed a mixture of confused and angry recognition from the handful of Imperials who looked at him long enough to realize who he was and pure curiosity from the ones who didn’t.

Luke followed Piett out of the turbolift, and the curiosity was shot through with shock when Piett waited for Luke to draw even with him before continuing down the corridor. Luke suspected the Admiral would have fallen a step behind him if Piett wasn’t leading him to their destination. But to walk side by side indicated an equivalence of rank that the rest of the Imperials had not been expecting from the mysterious newcomer, and even less by the ones who knew he was Luke Skywalker. He knew the gossip would be buzzing after this, and though he knew it would change how everyone saw him, he found himself looking forward to having the announcement over with. At least then, no one would wonder about why he was on the _Executor_.

Piett directed him to a door near the far end of the corridor, one that required the Admiral’s code cylinder to open, and Luke made a mental note to ask his father about acquiring his own access codes to the ship.

The officers’ lounge was more luxurious than anywhere else Luke had yet seen on the _Executor_ , though he knew that was a short list, but it still fit within the Empire’s preference for utilitarian spaces. The floor was uncarpeted durasteel, but there were patterned rugs in dark colors under each of the seating areas scattered throughout the large space. The seating areas consisted of couches ringing low tables, and only a quarter of them were currently occupied by small groups of officers.

Around the perimeter of the room were booths and two-person tables with chairs. The only exception was the bar that stretched along the wall to Luke’s left, staffed by two bartenders. The row of stools was empty save for one at the far end, where a tall, dark haired man sat hunched over a mug of… something. Probably caf, possibly something stronger, if the wall of bottles behind the bar was any indication of the broad range of available options.

The low murmur of conversation filling the air died down as the officers noticed them. Luke felt the urge to shrink back behind Piett, to hide from the eyes of the Imperials, but he resisted, and he was relieved when Piett straightened up and barked, “As you were.”

Most returned to their conversations, and though the Force still sang with curiosity and vague resentment, there was no active hostility, and Luke forced himself to relax as he trailed behind Piett to the bar.

The officer sitting at the far end looked up as they approached, and his eyes widened when he saw them. His grip on his mug tightened, and he nodded a greeting at Piett. Luke caught a glimpse of his rank bars as he turned slightly towards them and identified him as a captain.

“Captain Venka,” Piett said, returning the nod, if a bit more brusquely.

Luke smiled at him, then tilted his head, furrowing his brow at the inkling of familiarity to the man. It took him a moment to place him, but when he did, his eyes flickered down to Venka’s neck as though he could see the evidence of his father’s Force choke there. But the high collar of the Imperial uniform hid any potential bruising, and Luke shook his head slightly to clear it.

“I’m sorry. I thought… you looked like someone else for a moment,” Luke said as an excuse, giving him a weaker but more genuine smile. This was the man whose life he had saved, and Venka would probably never realize it. But the fact that this man, who Luke had recognized from brief images transmitted over the bond from his father during their previous conversation, was still breathing was proof of Luke’s ability to coax the good in his father’s heart to the surface, and Luke was unexpectedly glad to meet Captain Venka.

Luke held a hand out. “Luke.”

Venka looked at his hand for a moment, then back to Luke’s face, eyes narrowed.

“The rest is classified,” Piett said, giving Venka a wry smile.

Venka nodded again and finally took Luke’s outstretched hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. There was a slight rasp to his voice, and Luke restrained a wince of sympathy, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he knew exactly what had caused it.

One of the bartenders came over to them, and Luke turned his attention to ordering and eating lunch, trying to ignore the background buzz in the Force from so many people thinking about him. Several officers worked up the courage to approach them, most of them seeking information to add to the gossip, but none of them received more than Luke’s first name for their troubles. Luke was not entirely successful in biting back his laughter after picking up a stray thought from one lieutenant who had somehow lost a bet thanks to something Luke or Piett had said during their brief conversation.

Luke was just finishing his glass of blue milk, his request for which had gotten him a raised eyebrow from the bartender, when the door to the lounge opened again. The man who entered was tall, almost as tall as Vader, which was a feat in and of itself. His rank bars identified him as a general, and Luke froze as he realized who the man was.

“General Veers,” Piett said, and Luke nodded.

“I know who he is,” Luke said, surprised at the coldness in his own voice, but he couldn’t help his instinctive feelings of resentment. Veers was largely responsible for the massacre on Hoth, destruction Luke had witnessed firsthand. He knew he shouldn’t hold it against Veers; he had been doing his job, much as Luke had when he’d destroyed the Death Star, both of them fighting for a cause they believed in, but it was difficult to shake the negative emotions. Luke hung back as Piett crossed the room to greet the General and watched them exchange familiar pleasantries. It appeared they had a good relationship, better than any Piett had with the other officers in the lounge, if the stilted conversations they had engaged in were any indication.

Luke took a deep breath and released it slowly, letting the Force take his amalgamation of emotions with it. Grief, anger, even a bit of fear. He had never _met_ General Veers, so he had no cause to judge him and no moral high ground to do it from. And his father had done indisputably worse things. If Luke could forgive _him_ … Luke would approach this meeting with an open mind.

Veers smiled at something Piett said, and there were no sharp edges to it. It was a genuine smile, open and warm, and it helped Luke’s resolve to set aside any preconceived opinions he may have had of the General.

Veers’s Force presence was a tiny bit brighter than the average, not enough to make him even mildly Force-sensitive but enough to draw Luke’s attention. He studied it for a long moment, getting a feel for the General’s emotions without actually touching his mind. Luke still felt uneasy about reading a person’s thoughts if he could avoid it.

Veers was calm, relaxed, pleased to be interacting with Piett, and Luke realized the two were more than simply coworkers, possibly friends. He added his fair share of curiosity to the seething mess of it in the room, and there was a little suspicion aimed at Luke, which was valid. If anyone would recognize him, it would be the General of Death Squadron. But there was no open hostility, and Luke took a deep breath before standing.

Before he could move to join Piett and Veers, there was a sharp stab of warning in the Force. Luke spun on his heel, allowing the Force to guide his motions as he struck out seemingly blindly. His forearm connected with a wrist, knocking away a hand and the vibroblade held tightly in its grasp. Luke barely registered the look of surprise on his attacker’s face and his startled cry as he lost his grip on the blade. It clattered to the floor between them, and Luke kicked it, sending it skidding away. The moment of distraction was enough for the man to recover from his shock, and he tried to hit Luke again. Luke dodged, the Force again showing him the blow a moment before it fell. The man overbalanced as his punch connected with nothing but air, and Luke swept his feet out from under him with his ankle.

As he fell, the man’s hand caught Luke’s cape, fingers tangling in it and pulling Luke down with him. Luke cried out as he hit the ground, the impact jarring his still-healing shoulder. He rolled quickly, ignoring the throb in his shoulder, and pinned his attacker to the ground. Reaching for the Force, Luke pressed his hand to the man’s forehead and commanded him to sleep. He instantly went limp.

Gasping, Luke rolled off his unconscious assailant and lay there for a moment, trying to get his breathing and heartbeat under control. He groaned as the dull pain in his shoulder flared now that he wasn’t distracted. He forced himself to sit up and kneeled next to the man, who he now noticed was an officer, and checked for his pulse. It throbbed steadily under his fingers, and Luke sighed, bowing his head in relief. He could feel the flicker of the officer’s life in the Force, but the physical confirmation was reassuring.

“Are you alright, Commander?” Piett crouched next to him, placing a worried hand on his uninjured shoulder. Luke turned to look at him.

“Yes, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” His shoulder didn’t count. Landing on it probably hadn’t set its recovery back too far.

“Is he…”

“He’s alive. I just knocked him out.”

“Luke!”

Both Luke and Piett looked over at the door as Vader came storming into the room, and Luke tensed, unsure how his father was going to react. His cape was flaring out behind him, reminding Luke of the whispers in the Rebellion, that it meant Vader had death in his shadow. Luke could feel his father’s anger and fear mixing almost equally, and he worried for the life of the man who had attacked him.

Piett stood and held out his hand to Luke, who accepted it gratefully, his legs still a bit weak from the adrenaline crash. The Admiral kept a firm grip on his elbow until Vader reached them.

Vader ran his hands along Luke’s shoulders and down his arms, checking him for injuries, before one of his hands came up and touched his cheek lightly.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Vader demanded. Luke pulled away from him, aware of the eyes of all the gathered officers on them. The air was thick with confusion and disbelief, and Luke was surprised that Vader was letting his emotions get the better of him before their relationship was made public.

“Fa – Fine,” Luke caught his own slip just in time and lowered his voice. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken. But you’re making a scene.”

Vader growled but released Luke. He turned to Piett. “How did this happen?”

“I am sorry, my Lord. One moment everything was fine, the next the Commander was knocking a vibroblade out of someone’s hand.”

“I didn’t sense his intent until he was almost on me,” Luke said quietly. Vader turned to regard him. “But a flare in the Force warned me in time to move and disarm him. I… knocked him out.”

Luke shivered, his body still trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline, and he realized that this was the second attempt on his life in the last few days, if he counted all of Ozzel’s as one attempt. It was one thing to be shot at in battle. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was expected. It was _normal_. But to be specifically targeted for assassination was a whole different thing. He was suddenly dizzy, and he raised a hand to his head, closing his eyes and trying to breathe deeply.

“Commander?”

“Luke?”

Both Piett and Vader spoke at the same time, and multiple hands reached for him to steady him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he insisted, but he did not attempt to shake off the supporting hands. He thought he could stand on his own, but walking would be difficult, and he would be in no hurry to attempt it, except that he could still feel the eyes of the other officers in the lounge, and his mind prickled with the force of their collective curiosity.

 _“Can we get out of here?”_ he asked his father. Vader’s tight grip on his arm made it clear that he was as uneasy with the situation as Luke was. He could feel his father’s conflicting desires, to hover over his son and make sure he was safe or to deal with the attempted murderer.

“Leave him to the Admiral,” Luke said quietly. “He can take care of him.” Piett nodded his agreement and released Luke’s arm. Vader turned to leave, placing his hand against Luke’s back in its customary place. The familiar pressure of his father’s hand was comforting, reassuring, and Luke felt some of his tension drain away as his father led him out of the room.

~*~

Piett watched Darth Vader fuss over his son and wondered what everyone else in the room was thinking. The concern was entirely unlike their commander, and it was for a known Rebel, someone who was infamous on this ship. Anyone assigned to the _Executor_ knew Luke Skywalker’s name, and they knew what he looked like. The boy was top of the Empire’s Most Wanted list, courtesy of Darth Vader’s obsession and the significant bounty he had placed on that blond head. Wanted notices graced every message board and officer and crewman’s inbox. There was no one in the Squadron who didn’t know Skywalker’s face.

So why was the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy worrying over him? Why was he allowed free rein on the ship in the first place, and accompanied by the Admiral? Piett knew his own presence in this equation was, if not equally confusing, at least on most everybody’s minds in some capacity. He was already a source of a considerable amount of gossip, with his ability to hold his position for as long as he had and his seeming imperviousness to Lord Vader’s intimidation tactics. The scuttlebutt ran the gauntlet of theories, but to his awareness, none of them even came close to the truth, for who would suspect the loyal second-in-command of the Empire of harboring treasonous thoughts and possessing the audacity to act on them?

Luke spoke quietly, probably answering some mental query of his father’s, and Piett nodded his assent. He could easily _take care of_ the young officer, and though he would not take pleasure in the man’s fear, or the pain Piett knew Darth Vader would inflict on him later, he would be pleased to make an example of him for attacking a guest under both Lord Vader’s protection and his own. It was poor form, conduct unbecoming an officer of the Imperial Navy.

Piett sighed and crouched down by the officer, wishing he had a pair of binders to restrain him. He didn’t know what Skywalker had done to him, and he had no idea when the man might wake up and whether or not he would be inclined to violence when he did. The thought had barely crossed his mind when a gloved hand holding a pair of binders entered his field of vision, and he looked up to see General Veers standing next to him, leaning down slightly to hold the binders out for him to see.

Piett raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you always carry a pair of those on you, General?” In the field, certainly. Most groundpounders did, but in the officers’ lounge of a ship?

Veers shook his head. “No, the bartenders keep a stash of them behind the counter for when officers get… _unruly_.”

Piett accepted the binders and rolled the officer fully onto his back, quickly snagging each hand and locking the binders around his wrists. “Convenient. Have they ever had the chance to use them?”

Veers grinned. “A few times.”

“That sounds like a story I need to hear someday.”

Veers crouched down on the other side of the officer, and they each grabbed an arm, lifting the officer between them. Piett was grateful for the help, though he would never admit it. He had not been entirely certain how he was going to get the man down to the detention block by himself. He could hold his own in a fight, and he was stronger than he looked, but he was still small, and he knew he would not have been able to carry the man himself. He could have called security, of course, and given him over to the stormtroopers, but he trusted the General a fair bit more than he trusted a group of troopers, at the moment.

“Only if you tell me this story,” Veers responded quietly. He looked over at Piett, a frown creasing his eyebrows, and Piett felt his own mouth twist into a regretful smile.

“I’m afraid the circumstances of this incident are still classified at present,” he said.

“The kid?” Veers’s eyes darted to the door Darth Vader and Skywalker had disappeared through just moments before. “He’s Skywalker, right?”

Piett hesitated before nodding. There was no harm in confirming the boy’s identity to the General. He already knew, in any case.

“Skywalker… I’ve always wondered,” Veers said as they half dragged, half carried the unconscious officer to the door, his voice low so it wouldn’t carry, “whether he was related to the, ah, Jedi General, Anakin Skywalker.”

Piett froze, several pieces of the puzzle clicking into place in his mind. Jedi… Everyone knew, or rather assumed, that Darth Vader had once been a Jedi, but anyone who knew anything was very tight-lipped about the Sith’s past. But Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, favorite of the then-Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, was suddenly looking like a very good candidate for Darth Vader’s former identity. The last name being the same as Luke’s notwithstanding.

Veers jerked to a halt when Piett stopped walking.

“Admiral?” Veers asked, his tone colored with worry.

“You need to come with me, after we drop this one off.” Piett shrugged his shoulder to indicate the officer between them. Veers was curious enough to keep mulling the situation over, and if he was already starting to put things together, it would only be a matter of time before he reached the right conclusion. Better for Lord Vader to tell him himself than for Veers to work it out on his own.

Piett resumed his progress towards the door, forcing Veers to move as well.

“What the blazes is going on, Piett?” Veers demanded, as soon as they were outside the lounge. “I have never seen Lord Vader act that way around _anyone_.”

“I can’t tell you anything,” Piett hissed. He pressed the call button for the turbolift and glanced down at the officer. Still unconscious. Whatever Skywalker had done to him had worked well.

The turbolift dinged when the door slid open, and Piett and Veers dragged their prisoner into the lift. Through an unspoken agreement, they both let go of the officer, and he slumped to the floor between them. Piett entered the floor number of the nearest detention block.

“Skywalker’s a Jedi, isn’t he?” Veers said quietly, still pressing for information. “I know that’s the rumor, but he really is?”

Piett sighed. “Max, I _cannot_ – ”

Veers waved away his protest. “Yes, yes. Firmus Piett, Lord Vader’s devoted Admiral. But I saw what the kid did. I don’t know how, but he just touched his head,” Veers nudged the officer with his toe, “and he fell unconscious. That’s Jedi stuff. I saw enough of it during the Clone Wars to recognize it. I saw Anakin Skywalker too, not in person, but I saw him often enough in holos. The kid’s his kid. He has to be.”

Piett could almost see the gears turning in Veers’s head. “Please, Max. For your own safety, stop.” He doubted Lord Vader would kill his highly loyal and competent General over this, but Piett would rather Veers didn’t risk it, not with the levels of protectiveness Lord Vader had demonstrated when it came to his son. There were precious few officers on board that Piett would venture to call friends, and the General was one of the best.

Veers held his hands up. “Fine.”

“You will find out the truth soon,” Piett promised. “Lord Vader knows there are questions, and he’s planning an announcement. But I will ask if he might want to inform you sooner, since you insist on _thinking_ about it.” Piett rubbed at his temples to ease the slight stress headache that was forming. “Did anybody else see what Skywalker did?”

Veers shook his head. “I don’t think so. The kid’s body was blocking that from everybody else’s line of sight. I just happened to be at the proper angle to see it.”

“Good,” Piett said and let out a relieved breath. One less complication. It was bad enough that someone had already tried to assassinate Skywalker. They didn’t need rumors confirming that he was a Jedi circulating too.

The turbolift stopped, and Piett and Veers picked up the still unconscious officer just as the door opened. The lieutenant on guard in the detention block raised his eyebrows when he saw them. It _was_ a little unusual, Piett supposed, to have the Admiral and General of Death Squadron dragging an unconscious officer down to the detention block together.

“This man is under arrest for…” Piett faltered. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. It was treason and attempted assassination, but no one besides himself, Lord Vader, and Skywalker knew that. He would have had a reason planned out before reaching the detention block, but Veers had distracted him. “For attacking a guest of Lord Vader’s.”

Piett internally winced. _Not your best performance, Admiral._

The lieutenant raised his eyebrows. “I… was not aware Lord Vader entertained guests.”

 _Neither was I,_ Piett thought.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then the lieutenant shrugged. Piett knew he wasn’t about to disagree with the Admiral and the General, especially when it concerned Darth Vader.

“Any specific instructions?” he asked Piett, as he waved two stormtroopers over.

“Only that Lord Vader will deal with him himself.”

The lieutenant winced and nodded. Everyone knew that anyone Darth Vader decided to deal with himself was in for a bad time, though Piett knew that it would most likely be worse than normal this time, considering the crime and who the target had been.

“Put him in cell block D12,” the lieutenant told the troopers, and Piett and Veers relinquished the officer to their armoured hands. “And give me his code cylinder so I can find out who he is.”

“Send me his name when you find it,” Piett ordered, “and don’t let anyone speak to him when he wakes up. He may know sensitive information, so leave the interrogation to Lord Vader. Do remember that I have access to the security recordings and _will_ know if they’ve been tampered with.” He doubted the warning was necessary.

The lieutenant saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Piett nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the turbolift, Veers right behind him. As soon as the doors closed and the lift began its ascent, Piett slumped back against the wall. This day had been… stressful, and it was barely half over. He looked over at Veers, who was watching him carefully.

“Are you alright, Firmus?”

Piett exhaled what could have been considered a laugh. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “Not really. Have you ever had one of those days where it seems like everything that happens is trying to thwart your understanding of the Galaxy?”

Veers was silent for a long moment before he spoke quietly. “I can think of one, yes.”

Piett looked over at him in time to catch the small flash of pain on Veers’s face. Piett kicked himself for his careless comment, knowing Veers was thinking of the day he lost his wife.

“Max, I didn’t – ”

Veers shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I assume the cause of your existential crisis is the kid and is still classified?”

“Yes.” The turbolift drifted to a stop. “You need to come with me,” Piett said as the door opened to a corridor in Lord Vader’s private wing of the _Executor_.


End file.
